


Scavenger Hunt

by wingedknightRose



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: But it'll be a while, Female Summoner | Eclat | Kiran, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Spoilers, Gen, Male My Unit | Byleth, Much ado about dragons, Yes I am aware of the irony, askr is made of shenanigans and you can't change my mind, based on my own heroes file so, but damn it all claude's gonna figure it out, but mostly all the backstory stuff, dimitri attempts to be the voice of reason and sanity, edelgard will turn up eventually i promise, heroes headcanons abound, jury's out on how well he'll manage it but he's trying bless him, like for all the routes, no one knows what the actual fuck is going on in fodlan, plenty of other characters are gonna turn up, references to the plot of pretty much every other fire emblem, so if you haven't played the VW or SS routes maybe don't read this, surprise! this entire fic is a shitpost! :D, they just aren't around enough to be worth tagging them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2020-12-29 04:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21132989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedknightRose/pseuds/wingedknightRose
Summary: Claude didn't expect to find the answers he was looking for in Askr, but he wasn't about to pass an opportunity like this up. Dimitri didn't expect to get dragged along for the ride, but honestly, this might as well be happening today.Or, how an offhand comment from the draconic equivalent of a five-year-old led to the unraveling of Fódlan's dark past and completely changed its future.





	1. It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Claude doesn't stop to consider that maybe he's just reading too much into this.

“Sur-_priiiiiise!_” The young voice rang through the garden, and Claude turned just in time to watch Fae barrel into his leg.

“Woah! What’s this about?” He didn’t mind being interrupted, honestly. The garden wasn’t going anywhere, so he could come back to pick some plants to test out in various concoctions whenever he so pleased. And Fae wasn’t just some adorable kid - she was a dragon. Not just any dragon, but a _divine_ dragon. Though nobody had been able to tell him what made divine dragons so, well, divine. But that wasn’t a big deal. There were plenty of other mysteries to poke into. Like how this whole summoning thing worked, or what was going on with that Emblan princess, or just about everything about Dís’s home. The more answers she gave him about that, the more questions he ended up with. It was fun!

Fae beamed up at him and offered a crown of white flowers. “For you!”

Glancing up, he could see Sophia in the distance. That explained how well made the crown was. Fae wasn’t bad at it, she was just…not the greatest.

“Well, thanks.” He knelt down and allowed her to place it on his head. Creamy white and verdant green looked dashing against his brown curls, if he did say so himself. He’d have to remember this sort of thing next time he needed to charm something out of someone. Nobody would do anything uncouth in a flower crown, would they? Of course not. At least, they’d never give off that impression. “What’s the occasion?”

“Just cuz!” Fae clapped her hands when he stood back up, delighted with her work. “I’m giving one to everyone that feels nice!”

Wait. What. “Feels…nice?” Did she mean everyone that was nice to her? Because that was a lot of flower crowns. There were only a few in the Order that were callous enough to be mean to such a cute kid, and those few typically got cowed into politeness by those two fell dragons.

(There was a story with those two, and he wanted to know it. He’d already asked Lucina about her side of it, but that didn’t tell him where the Grimas had come from, or why they hated everything so much. Unfortunately, they weren’t the social type, and he’d yet to work his way into their good graces. Maybe he should recruit some help. Morgan would probably be up for it…)

“Uh-huh! You feel nice! Like all the people back home!”

Claude didn’t know too much about where Fae came from, but apparently it was in the desert? So maybe it was the color of his skin that was familiar to her. It wasn’t too far removed from that Hawkeye’s complexion. That would make sense. “Do I really?” On a whim, Claude added, “Who else is getting one?” Depending on who she mentioned, it would be easy enough to make the connection.

“Lotsa people! Like Roy, and Sophia, and Morgan, and ‘Kumi, and Azura and Elise and Seliph and Lucy and Dima and Miss Ayra and Soren-”

“That is a looooota people.” Claude blinked. That was quite a list. Roy and Sophia he could understand, they were both from the same world as Fae. Some of the others made sense, seeing as they were all involved in what Dís liked to call the _doomsday dragon daycare_. The Grimas tended to adopt people, but Claude hadn’t figured out the reasoning behind their choices. Another thing to try and coax out of them when he got the chance.

But some of those didn’t fit in. He only knew Ayra by sight, but she’d never seemed the sort to bother with the kids. He’d never seen her _avoid_ them, but she was just doing…other stuff. And Soren? Claude knew Soren a bit better, and that guy? It was like dealing with Felix, only worse. Felix could be coaxed into showing he cared. Claude had never seen any indication that Soren cared about anyone, and he _did_ avoid dealing with the kids. So why would Fae want to bother with him?

“Yuh-huh! That’s why Sophia is helping! Now I gotta go make the rest! Bu-bye!”

“Yeah, bye—” Aaaaaand Fae had run off before he could try and question her choice in gift recipients. Either her village was full of some colorful characters, or he was missing something. Though, now that he thought about it, she probably wouldn’t be able to tell him much more than she had. She _was_ just a little kid.

Well, he’d tuck that away for later. For now, he had some ingredients to collect, with his classy new flower crown.

* * *

“My turn! _Raaaaargh!_”

Claude watched in mild amusement as the girl Kana charged at his fellow house leader. Ever since the kids had found out about Dimitri’s frankly absurd strength, they’d begged and wheedled until he’d agreed to wrestle with them. As dragons. And Dimitri won most of the time! Or he would, if he wasn’t so nice. It was endearing as it was exasperating, watching the guy who could probably crush a man’s skull with a single bare hand be so blasted _soft._

(And seriously, where did that strength _come_ from? When he’d asked all Dimitri could say for sure was it was a family trait. They had both agreed it was probably a Crest thing, and wasn’t that just an itch Claude couldn’t scratch? If only Askr’s library had something about Crests.)

The other Kana cheered as Kana and Dimitri began to wrestle. Kana was struggling, likely because she wasn’t used to having someone person-sized try to pull her legs out from under her and the like. When they were in battle, their opponents used weapons or magic, or were dragons of similar size. Dimitri was something else entirely.

“Hey, kiddo. Gonna need to steal him when your twin is done.” Kana turned, the beginnings of a pout tugging at his face. Not that it would work on Claude. Sure, the kid was cute, but that was the oldest trick in the book. He’d have to do better to out scheme the schemer.

“Awwww, how come?”

“Dís wants him for a mission. But I’m sure he’ll be free to wrestle some more when we’re done.”

Kana made a show of grumbling, but didn’t actually protest. Dís had said that Dimitri was needed, and Dís always got what she wanted around here. It was almost scary, just what everyone was willing to do for her, when Claude stopped to think about it. Even he wasn’t immune. It sorta reminded him of how Teach had quickly become Garreg Mach’s number one teacher, despite being about as emotive as a chalkboard. There was just something…compelling about them both. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. It sorta bothered him - and the fact that it only _sort of_ bothered him bothered him even more.

“You really think he’ll be free to wrestle more?”

“Sure! It might not be right away, but he hasn’t told you no yet, has he?” Claude might be able to resist the Kanas’ combined pouts, but Dimitri either couldn’t bring himself to say no or didn’t want to. If Claude ever wanted something out of him, all he’d have to do is get one of the kids to ask for him. Actually, that was a good idea. He tucked it away for later.

“I guess you’re right!”

“Hey, why are you guys so keen to wrestle with him, anyways? Can’t you wrestle with each other?” He asked on a whim, to keep the conversation going. Dimitri and Kana were still at it, and Dís _had_ given them a bit of time to get ready.

“Well, yeah, but it’s fun to play with Dima! He’s strong and he teaches us things and he feels real nice!”

“He feels nice?” There it was again. The same thing Fae had told him earlier. Come to think of it, Dimitri was one of the people she’d said she was making a flower crown for, wasn’t he? “What’s that mean?”

Kana blinked up at him. “He feels nice! Like my aunties and uncles do!”

Well that was an interesting comparison. Claude was familiar with Kana’s rather large family - Corrin had been one of the first people he’d taken an interest in when he’d come to Askr. So close to the royal families of two completely different kingdoms that had long hated each other - how could he not check it out? And it was worth it, if only for the confirmation that his goal was achievable. If Hoshido and Nohr could get along, why couldn’t Fódlan and Almyra?

But knowing them didn’t explain what Kana was on about. He could see Dimitri reminding him of the Nohrians, there were some similarities there. Heck, he’d seen Dimitri and Prince Xander hanging around the stables together several times. Probably talking about horses and kingliness and other way too serious things. But the Hoshidans? Dimitri wasn’t really like the Hoshidans. Well, maybe Prince Ryoma’s whole honor thing was a bit similar, but other than that? Claude didn’t see it.

So what was Kana talking about? Was it the same thing Fae was talking about?

“Hey, Kana. Do I feel nice?”

“Uh-huh!”

“…Huh.” Well, that was that. Claude had even less in common with the Nohrians and the Hoshidans than Dimitri did. So what gives?

“Oh, Claude! Was there something you needed?” Dimitri’s voice cut through his thoughts. Seems he and Kana were done for the moment. He didn’t even look tired, despite having wrestled not one but two dragons in the past ten minutes. It was absolutely unfair.

“Yeah, Dís sent me to tell you to arm up. We’re heading out. Something about bonus points in the Arena, if I heard her right.”

“Very well. Sorry, Kana, Kana, but I have to go.” The Kanas pouted in unison. Dimitri chuckled. “We can continue some other time.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Now then, Claude, shall we?”

“Sure thing, your Princliness.”

As they left the two Kanas behind and headed towards the stables, Dimitri made a small gesture towards the flower crown still sitting on Claude’s head. “May I ask what that is about? I didn’t take you for the type.”

“You think I look adorable, don’t try to hide it.” Claude replied with a teasing smirk. Dimitri just shook his head in exasperation. Ah well. One day he’d get a bigger reaction out of him. “Fae gave it to me. Said she was giving one to everyone that ‘feels nice’.”

“Feels…nice?”

“That’s what she said. You were on the list, too, so don’t be surprised if you get ambushed by a small dragon with a flower wreath sometime today.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

* * *

A couple of days later, Claude happened upon the most adorable tea party. There was Teach and Mercedes and a couple of the dragons - the green haired one was Tiki, if he remembered correctly? And the other one with the wings was…he couldn’t remember her name. There were just too many people in Askr, it was hard to keep all the names straight. Myrna or something? Whatever. It was adorable, because the two dragons were both trying act all proper, and Teach was as stone-faced as ever, and all of them were wearing flower crowns. Fae must’ve gotten to them.

Which meant that Teach and Mercedes were also in the “feels nice” category, but he had no idea what to do with that information. So it got tucked away with the rest.

“Hey there! Not interrupting anything, am I?”

Mercedes turned and gave him that warm smile she did. The sort that felt like fresh cookies and fuzzy blankets. It was a pity he couldn’t put that smile in a bottle, it’d be great for getting someone to relax. “Oh, not at all! We were just having some tea. Would you like to join us?”

“Don’t mind if I do!” Hey, he wasn’t busy, so why not? It was a chance to get to know Teach a little better, and to talk to the dragons (he still wasn’t over the fact that there were_ actual dragons_ here, if he was being honest with himself), and even to chat with Mercedes. And, hey, you couldn’t go wrong with tea and tasty snacks.

They found a chair and he ended up sitting between Teach and Tiki with his own cup, and Mercedes asked the other dragon girl to pass him a pastry which let him get her name (Myrrh, he’d been close!) without actually having to ask, which was nice.

Conversation was pretty par for the course for a tea party. Mercedes talked about Garreg Mach, and Teach chimed in some when he could, and Tiki and Myrrh talked about their own homes. Tiki had been alone a lot? And Myrrh lived in the woods. He learned something new every day.

Claude threw in his own funny stories, which had the ladies giggling and the slightest twitch from Teach’s lips, which he took as a rousing success. Was it that Teach was more expressive, or that Claude was getting better at picking out his ticks? Either way, it was progress. The better friends he and Teach were, the more likely it was that Teach and his Sword of the Creator would be willing to help make Claude’s dream a reality.

Actually, speaking of…

“Don’t have your sword with you, Teach? That’s unusual.”

Claude hadn’t seen Teach without the Sword of the Creator since he’d pulled it out of that tomb. Even in class, or at teatime, he had it with him. Which, considering he’d found it during an attempt at stealing it, was fair enough. But this wasn’t Garreg Mach, and the Western Church insurgents and the Flame Emperor had no influence here, so far as anyone knew. There probably weren’t many people in Askr that would want to swipe it.

Which meant that it would be easy enough for him to sneak into Teach’s room and take a look…

Teach gave him that look he had. The _don’t you dare go through with the scheme I know you just concocted, Claude_ look. “Tiki and Myrrh would prefer I leave it behind.”

“Huh?” Weird. “Why’s that?”

“It’s scary,” Tiki pipped up.

“It feels wrong,” Myrrh added helpfully, “Like…like something horrible.” The way she had paused, she was thinking of something specifically. Something bad, from the sound of it. Claude decided to leave it at that. Maybe he could ask somebody else from her world about it? Not that he had much to go off of.

More importantly, what about the Sword of the Creator was so unsettling? It couldn’t be the Crest stone, it didn’t have one. So they weren’t feeling some impending demonic beasthood or some nonsense like that. And it didn’t twitch, unlike the lance Sylvain had taken to carrying around. (Why did it twitch? Weapons weren’t supposed to twitch, were they? It was almost like the thing was alive, even though it rightfully shouldn’t be. Another itch he couldn’t scratch.)

Maybe it was effective against dragons? He’d heard of weapons like that here in Askr, which made sense, from a tactical standpoint. Heck, there were plenty of them scattered around the worlds, from the sound of it. “What, like Falchion?” Falchion was the big one he knew of, because there were so many copies of it floating around the Order. Made him wonder if there might be copies of the other Hero’s Relics around too. Not that that would matter, what with them being tied to specific Crests. Even if there were two relics of House Riegan around here, he’d only be able to use one at a time.

“Falchion isn’t scary!” Tiki said. Myrrh nodded in agreement.

Well, that didn’t answer anything.

Glancing at Teach, all Claude got was the slightest shrug. He didn’t know either.

How peculiar. He tucked that tidbit away for later, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Normal brain:** The Summoner knows what happens in Three Houses but can’t tell anyone because they have to be impartial
> 
> **Glowy brain:** The Summoner knows what happens in Three Houses and locks the house leaders + Byleths into a room until they can talk this shit out like adults
> 
> **Galaxy brain:** The Summoner has no idea what’s going on in Fódlan either, but there’s enough similarities between Fódlan and other FE worlds that the house leaders can piece it all together anyways
> 
> * * *
> 
> Okay, actual notes.
> 
> _Timing:_ All the Three Houses cast are from chapter 7 (Battle of the Eagle and Lion). This is important for a variety of reasons, like what they already know.
> 
> _Dís:_ Given name Dísir, the Summoner of this particular fic. I tried to write this with a fairly blank summoner but it didn't work, so you're stuck with mine. The mythological connotations of her name are entirely intentional.
> 
> _Byleth:_ Bylass has yet to grace my humble castle with her presence, so Bylad takes the lead here. What house did he pick? Not important.
> 
> _Dragon wrestling:_ **You're welcome**


	2. Death vs Puppy Dog Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The result will warm your heart. Or maybe just confuse the shit out of you.

Claude hadn’t given the whole feel good vibes thing much thought after the initial observations. Honestly, why would he? Kids were weird. They liked people based on their own brand of logic which wasn’t always apparent to people that weren’t them. Sure, Fae thinking that Soren felt nice was weird, but Fae also loved to hang around Idunn, who was even less expressive than Teach was. And that? That was a feat of monumental proportions. Fae was exactly the type of person that would stick around and refuse to take any hints that she should get lost. Not that Claude would be mean enough to tell her that, but it was still true.

It wasn’t until he witnessed something absolutely mind-bendingly_ bizarre_ that he was forced to revisit that information.

It all started when he saw Fae sprinting up to the Death Knight.

The Death Knight (should he call him Jeritza? That was _technically_ unconfirmed) had come to Askr after Claude himself, around the same time Mercedes had appeared. He hadn’t been summoned so much as beaten into submission and press-ganged into service, an event that was apparently fairly commonplace around here. Dís had given Claude a list at least a dozen names long when the topic had come up. The way she’d explained it was that since there were so many gates open and things in Zenith were so unstable, sometimes people just…ended up here, without her or Veronica or whoever else calling them. Sometimes they got caught up in the Tempest and had to be rescued. Sometimes Embla or whoever else was issuing contracts against Askr got to them first, and they got sent after the Order in general and the Summoner in specific. And sometimes they were just…there.

The Death Knight was apparently in the last category. Dís had taken a team out to take care of a series of raids on their supply lines, which they suspected were being instigated by Hel’s forces. Claude had no idea if that’s actually what had been happening, but when they’d gotten there and started to deal with the problem the Death Knight had turned up. Teach had been in the team at the time, and of course the Death Knight was obsessed with Teach (and really, who wasn’t?), and things had rapidly devolved from there.

Long story short, the Death Knight picked a fight and lost, and then agreed to a contract and was subsequently brought back and introduced as a new member of the Order of Heroes. He was on probation, under threat of getting kicked into the prison wing (which wasn’t actually a prison or even a full wing but had rightfully earned the name all the same) if he refused to _tone down the freaky shit enough to at least pass as a functioning member of society_ (Dís’s words, almost verbatim). He had no idea why the Death Knight got probation when he was exactly the sort of person Claude _wouldn’t_ want running around unchecked. In fact, Alfonse had protested the move. Claude unfortunately hadn’t been able to catch anything about the heated debate that had ensued, but the prince had relented, and the Death Knight was allowed freedom. Mostly. He didn’t know the reasoning behind it.

What Claude _did_ know was that the Death Knight’s rooms were a fair distance from everyone else’s, instead of in the wing dedicated to folks from Fódlan, that the man didn’t keep anything that would so much as hint about who the Flame Emperor was or what he wanted in those rooms (he’d already broken in and checked), that Mercedes had apparently volunteered to be the one to give him the “grand tour” of the keep and everything in it, and that when he’d been told about that last part Dimitri had crushed the plate he’d been holding with so much force that the bits under his hands had almost been reduced to dust. Lucky for him there hadn’t been any food on it at the time, but it had still been great entertainment to go with dinner.

Claude also knew that Fae was running up to the Death Knight with a ring of flowers in her hands.

He didn’t see Sophia or Hawkeye around - heck, Claude didn’t see anyone around. Just him and the kid and the guy who he knew for a fact had kidnapped a young girl and held her underground for a month so people could steal her blood. Not exactly the sort of person you wanted to leave alone with kids. And, yeah, technically the Death Knight wasn’t allowed to do anything that could harm Fae, but Claude wasn’t the sort of person to risk it. Maybe if it was Lysithea, who could Dark Spikes T the guy into next week, he’d be willing to hang back and watch the show, and heck, maybe Fae could hold her own in a fight, but no. This wasn’t something he was going to leave to chance.

He walked briskly in their direction, intending to sweep in, scoop Fae up with some excuse about how Sophia had asked him to help look for her, and get out before anything could go wrong. Simple as breathing. He and Hilda had done this sort of escape maneuver plenty of times. What’s the worst that could happen?

Whatever it was, it didn’t happen. What _did_ happen was Fae got to the Death Knight before Claude managed to get close enough to actually intervene. He was close enough to be able to eavesdrop, which honestly only made the entire situation even more surreal, if such a thing was even possible.

“Hey! Mister! I made this for you!”

Fae, with the fearlessness that only a child could muster, waved the flower crown up above her head. Claude had tripped in shock, because while he’d clocked that she was holding the thing, he hadn’t actually realized that she was planning on giving it to the Death Knight, of all people. His feet stopped once he caught himself and his thoughts ran in circles because honestly, what the actual-

The Death Knight, who had been steadfastly ignoring her up to that point, turned just enough to stare down at her. With the creepy mask and the glowing red eyes, Claude expected Fae to get spooked and run. Fae did not run. But, then again, Fae spent a lot of time with the Grimas, and they also had the glowy red eye thing down to an art. Not to mention that the doomsday dragons themselves were absolutely terrifying, what with the six red eyes and the growls that you could feel in your bones and the fact that they were so big that their teeth were _twice as long as he was tall_, and she didn’t seem afraid of them.

…Did Fae even get afraid?

Not in the face of the Death Knight, it seemed. She just grinned up at him and held up the crown for him to take.

“No.” Was the response she got.

This did not deter her. Not in the slightest. If anything, it seemed to make her even more determined to get that ring of flowers onto that horned helmet. “Awwww, but whyyyy? I worked really hard on it! Really, really hard!”

The Death Knight said nothing.

“Come ooooon, pleeeeeease? Pretty please?”

Still nothing. Just the staring.

“I picked the pretty red flowers because they go with your cape! And I made it big so it would go around your horns!”

Nothing. Except, the Death Knight shifted a bit, turning to stare more fully at Fae. Was he contemplating murder? Or just kicking her into the next courtyard? Claude really had better intervene. Really. Any moment now and he’d start walking again and swoop in and get the kid out of there.

“Why?”

“Because you feel nice!” Claude couldn’t see the expression under that helmet, but he could only imagine it was as utterly flabbergasted as his own was. The Death Knight felt nice? Was that even possible? Was it something like _yes, hello, mister reaper sir, out for a nice bit of murder today?_ Maybe Fae had been spending too much time with the Grimas. Should he talk to Sophia about that? And, hold on a second, what did that say about everyone else that ‘felt nice’? Claude didn’t mind having that descriptor, but it was a bit harder to get behind when he shared it with a bloodthirsty, battle-obsessed guy whose side-gig was kidnapping. And Dimitri was in that group too? And Teach, and Mercedes, who was the nicest person Claude had ever met, not to mention all the rest of them and, and-

This didn’t add up. He was missing something here. And now he wanted to know_ what._

“Pleeeeeeeease?”

“…Fine.”

Claude nearly fell over, despite standing still. Had the Death Knight just…had he just _agreed to wear a flower crown?!_

Fae giggled brightly. “Yay! Here you go, Mister!”

The Death Knight took the crown and slipped it on over his horns, and honestly Claude was wondering if someone had put something in his breakfast this morning, because there was no way this was actually happening. None. It was impossible.

(He knew that technically nothing was impossible in Askr, but knowing it and seeing it were two completely different things.)

Fae clapped and giggled some more when the crown was in place, and then darted off with a cheerful “Bu-bye!” and a wave.

Which left Claude standing there, staring open-mouthed at the Death Knight, who wore a crown of small, bright red flowers around his horned helmet.

The Death Knight turned to stare back from over his shoulder. And then, before Claude could reorder his thoughts and attempt to use his knowledge of this touching little scene for some blackmail, the Death Knight walked away after stating a single phrase.

_“No one will ever believe you.”_

…He was right. Well, _fuck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did the Death Knight take the flowers because he has a soft spot for kids? Because he knew Mercedes would be delighted when she found out? Or just to fuck with Claude? You decide!


	3. The Shenanigans Begin to Ensue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dimitri, I have connected the two dots."
> 
> "You didn't connect shit."
> 
> "I've connected them."

Dimitri honestly never knew what to expect with Claude. Well, that wasn’t entirely true - he expected Claude to be friendly, evasive, curious, and always out to get the upper hand. But he never quite knew what Claude was going to do next. Be that as it may, whenever Claude turned around and did something out of the ordinary, it never really seemed to _surprise_ Dimitri anymore. Him doing the unexpected was, well, expected. So…perhaps Dimitri knew what to expect with Claude after all.

So when Claude sprinted into the training grounds and proceeded to watch his match with Ephraim, bouncing in his seat like a child waiting for their parent to be done talking to another grown-up, well, Dimitri couldn’t say it really phased him.

He didn’t hasten to end the match. Whatever it was Claude wanted, it could wait. Dimitri quite enjoyed his bouts with the Renais prince, they shared a lot in common. Ephraim also struggled with the burdens of leadership and the love of battle, and he was a wonderful challenge in the ring. He wasn’t a beast like Dimitri was (he had yet to meet anyone in Askr that was a beast in human skin like he was), but it was still refreshing to speak to someone that understood some of his struggles. He would enjoy this while it lasted, and if he took some quiet satisfaction in watching Claude grow steadily more impatient and frazzled, well, that was his own business.

No sooner had Dimitri bid Ephraim a good day than Claude had shot up out of his seat and sprinted over like an arrow loosed from his bow. “Heeeey, your Princeliness! I don’t suppose you’d be willing to do me a favor?”

Dimitri wiped the sweat from his brow and gave Claude a Look. “Good day to you as well, Claude.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a nice day, that was a good sweep near the end of that last round by the way, but seriously, would you mind helping your ol’ buddy Claude out?”

Dimitri moved to put the training lance away. Claude followed, of course. “That depends on what you are asking me to assist with.”

“You know some of the Jugdrali Heroes pretty well, right?”

“Yes…?”

“Think you could answer a question or two about ‘em for me?”

“Why can you not simply ask them yourself?”

Claude folded his hands behind his head. “Because I’m not sure what to ask, and I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot by wasting their time.”

“So you will waste mine instead?” Dimitri returned coolly. Not that he had anything pressing to do at the moment. But it was just the way that Claude phrased it…

“Think of it as an opportunity to bond with your fellow house leader! Isn’t that why we’re all at the Academy? To bond so we don’t try to kill each other?”

Dimitri sighed. Claude had a point about the reason they were both at the Officer’s Academy, but that didn’t make him _right._

Claude, being Claude, took the lack of answer as an invitation to keep going. “You remember the other day, when I got that flower crown from Fae? You remember what I said her reasoning was?”

“I do, but what does this have to do with the Jugdrali Heroes?”

“I’m getting to that, don’t worry. See, the thing is? Fae also gave a flower crown to the _Death Knight._ For the same reason!”

Dimitri stopped short, only moving to fix Claude with an unamused stare. “Claude, if this is some sort of _joke—_”

“Ask her yourself if you don’t believe me!” Claude cut him off in exasperation. “And, anyway, even if that didn’t happen, don’t you want to know what that’s all about?”

“Fae thinks that we are nice. What is there to know about?” He couldn’t hide the note of frustration in his voice. Of all the things for Claude to get hung up on, the opinion of a child? Dragon or not, Fae simply said what she thought, as all children tended to. Why couldn’t he just take the compliment and move on? Surely there were other things for him to go digging into.

“When I asked her about it, she didn’t say she was giving one to Dís. Don’t you think our dear Summoner would be at the top of the list? But she did say that _Soren_ qualified. Isn’t that odd to you?”

“Perhaps she already gave one to Dís, Claude.”

“And Soren?”

“Fae has been here far longer than either of us. I would not be surprised if she knows Soren better than we do.” Dimitri was…familiar with the prickly strategist. Dis had introduced him as her teacher in all things tactics, and had warned him of the man’s rather blunt and taciturn nature. This hardly phased him, of course, he was used to Dedue. Though, Soren’s habit of throwing barbs reminded him more of Felix. The familiarity made him rather easy to deal with, in a way. Perhaps Fae saw something similar.

Claude sighed in irritation. “It’s not just Soren. She listed a bunch of people, from just about every world. C’mon, your Princliness. Aren’t you the least bit curious about what you, me, the Hoshidan prince, that Ylissian princess, some girl from a village in the desert, a certain prickly tactician, and a whole slew of others all have in common?”

Now it was Dimitri’s turn to sigh, even as he led the way away from the training grounds and towards the stables. He might as well tend to his horse while Claude was pestering him. “I suppose that is an interesting observation, but I cannot help but think you are overreacting, Claude. She is a child.”

“I asked the Corrins, and they said something similar. They way they put it, there was something about all of us that felt familiar, somehow. Gave me a whole list of people, in fact.” Claude produced a piece of paper with a scrawled list upon it and held it out for Dimitri to look. Glancing at it, he saw a number of names, from just about every world. Claude was right, Dís was not there. And Soren was.

And so was the Death Knight.

Then again, the list was written in Claude’s hand, so perhaps this was still some sort of elaborate joke.

“They couldn’t tell me what it was they were picking up on, either.”

Dimitri gave Claude a flat look. “The Death Knight.”

“They tried to convince me that maybe he just needed a friend to help him get back on the right track or something. Maybe the dragons have all been hanging around the Grimas too much.” Claude shrugged. “Come to think of it, it sounded like they were trying to convince themselves as much as me. But anyway, they did say that he had the same feel as the rest of us, more or less, even if he is, well, the Death Knight.”

Dimitri ran a hand through his bangs. That was quite a list, and if all the dragons were sensing something, that was indeed peculiar. And maybe he was a bit curious as to what it might be, considering he couldn’t pick out a common thread just by looking at it, and neither could Claude, who liked to pride himself on puzzling things out. More to the point, judging by the way Claude was acting, he wasn’t going to let this go. So Dimitri might as well go along with it to keep him in line. Not that he would admit to that ulterior motive to Claude’s face, it would only make him more determined to get into trouble, just to be difficult.

“Very well, I will attempt to answer your question. But I doubt I will be much help.”

Claude grinned, and Dimitri couldn’t help the small smile that answered it. Claude’s grins were contagious. “Great! So, can you take a look at this list and tell me if there’s any common trend you can see between the Judgrali? Because I’ve checked just about every other world and got nothing.”

Dimitri took the list from Claude’s hand and read it over, looking for names he knew. Seliph, Leif, Ares, and their families in Askr. Ayra, Arvis, Lewyn…Mareeta? And Sylvia? Odd…

“Most of them are nobles,” Dimitri began, only to get cut off by Claude’s groan.

“Yeah, yeah, nobility makes you _so_ special, thank you Lorenz, teach me the proper noble way to sip tea while you’re at it—”

Dimitri kept going, fighting a smile at the jab at Lorenz. He didn’t know Lorenz personally, but he’d heard enough about him to know that Claude wasn’t really exaggerating. “Not all of them are. Lady Sylvia, for example.”

“Huh. It’s the same with the rest of them. Most of ‘em are nobles, but not everyone. You can’t see anything else?”

“No, but I can think of someone who might be able to.” Dimitri passed the list back. “You wish to know about the people from Jugdral, so let us speak with someone from Jugdral. After we tend to our horses, of course.”

* * *

In the end, it was Seliph and Leif they found first. The two were seated in one of the many courtyards in the Order’s keep, cleaning their armor and chatting amiably. From the sound of it, it was a friendly debate about trade agreements, tariffs, and the like. Fitting for two future rulers.

Leif spotted them first, raising a hand in a friendly wave as the approached. Seliph turned, and offered them both a smile.

“Good day,” Seliph said in his warm, gentle way as they approached.

“That it is,” Dimitri replied, “I hope we are not interrupting anything?”

“Nothing pressing. Was there something you needed?”

“My friend and I have an…odd question, if you don’t mind indulging us.”

Leif slid over and motioned for them join. Dimitri took the seat with a grateful nod. Claude flopped down next to him with far less decorum, leaning back a bit with his hands behind his head. Because of course Claude would be overly casual with people he only just met, even if they were important people from another world. Thankfully neither Seliph nor Leif seemed to mind.

“An odd question? What kind of odd question?” Leif’s head tilted in curiosity.

“I think Claude had better explain…actually, come to think of it, have you met Claude before?” When he received a pair of shaking heads in response, Dimitri continued. “Ah, my apologies for my rudeness then. This is Claude von Riegan, a classmate of mine.”

“Heya.”

“I am Seliph of Chalphy, and this is my cousin, Prince Leif of Leonster.” Seliph gave a little bow as he introduced himself. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you not the future leader of…I believe Dimitri said it was an alliance?”

Claude waved him off. “Yeah, but don’t worry about that too much. We’re all equals here, right?”

“Indeed we are. What’s this odd question, then?”

“Okay, so, bear with me here. But I was talking to some of the dragons and they all said they felt something familiar about certain people in the Order. I’ve got a list right here and it’s pretty out there. I can’t find any real thread, so I was wondering if you could spot something that I couldn’t about the people from Jugdral, seeing as you’re from Jugdral and all.” Claude produced the list in question, holding it out for Seliph to take.

Seliph looked it over, with Leif leaning into his cousin’s shoulder to peer at it himself. “That_ is_ quite an odd collection of people.”

“Prince Alfonse, Princess Fjorm, Prince Berkut, Princess Elise…,” Leif paused to consider. “It’s not just royalty, is it?”

“Nah, because Sophia’s on the list, and she’s not royal anything. Neither is Ophelia.” Claude tossed the words out even as he watched the two puzzle over his conundrum.

“Nor is Mercedes,” Dimitri added.

“So, you two see any sort of thread? Because I’m about at the end of my rope here.”

“Father, Mother, Uncle Quan and Aunt Ethlyn, Lewyn…Ayra…you and I, and Ares and Julia, as well,” Seliph hummed. “Looking at this, this is most everyone from Judgral, isn’t it?”

“Finn’s not there,” Leif replied with a shake of his head. “So that can’t be it. …Hey, wait a minute. Don’t all these people have Holy Blood? Oh, wait, that cheery dancer’s on here, too…”

“No, you’re right. Lady Sylvia does have Holy Blood. The only person I cannot place is Saias…”

“You think he’s got Holy Blood too?”

Seliph stared at the name on the paper, considering. “I wonder…”

“Uh, sorry, could we back up a bit? What’s this Holy Blood?” Claude shifted to lean forwards instead of back, clearly interested. “You trying to tell me you guys are saints?”

“No, no,” Seliph laughed at that. “That’s not it at all.”

“He’s descended from one, though,” Leif helpfully pipped up.

“You’re descended from a saint?” Dimitri blinked at the revelation. He’d known that Seliph was heir to a Duchy, and perhaps the whole of an empire as well? He knew little about the exact circumstances of Seliph’s family, just that it had been rent apart by tragedy, and then put back together through the strange magic of Askr and the Summoner. (He tried not to let the envy take root. Seliph was a good, kind soul, which was more than Dimitri could say for himself. If one of them truly deserved to have their family given back to them, it was Seliph. But that didn’t stop Dimitri from _wanting._)

“On my mother’s side, yes,” Seliph admitted, a mite bit sheepish. “But please, don’t make a fuss over it. As Claude said, we are all equals here.”

“So what’s this Holy Blood all about, then?”

“Well, a person with Holy Blood is a descendant from one of the twelve crusaders,” Leif explained, “I’m descended from the crusader Njörun on my father’s side, and Baldr on my mother’s. Seliph is descended from Baldr and Saint Heim.”

“It’s said that long ago, when the dark god Loptous ruled the land of Jugdral, twelve gods descended from the heavens and made a blood pact with the crusaders,” Seliph picked up when Leif stopped. “Those pacts granted them great power and allowed them to wield special weapons. That blood, and those weapons, have been passed down since ancient times.”

“That sounds like the story of Saint Seiros and the Ten Elites,” Dimitri commented, hand raising to his chin as he considered the similarities. “But the Crests were gifts from a single Goddess, not many. Still, the bit about relics and bloodlines is similar. And the story, as well.”

“Crests? Are those like Brands?” Seliph sounded genuinely interested.

“That depends,” Claude replied, “what’s a Brand?”

“A Brand is a mark that signifies one has a great amount of Holy Blood, and can wield the weapon of that bloodline. I myself have a brand, which allows me to wield Tyrfing, like my father.” Seliph’s hand came to rest on his belt, where the sword would be clipped had he been armed.

“Huh. Do you have a Brand?” Claude glanced at Leif.

Leif shook his head, eyes dropping. “No. I don’t. I can’t use the Gáe Bolg, like my father and my sister.”

Seliph reached to put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re still an admirable warrior in your own right, Brand or no Brand.”

Leif laughed. “You think so? I think I’ve got a long way to go before that’s true, but I’ll get there someday.”

“Well, to answer your question, no, Crests aren’t quite the same as Brands. Crests don’t show up on a person, for starters. You need to get your blood tested to see if you have one. People from a Crest-bearing bloodline might be born without one. No one knows why they show up when they do.” Claude cut into the touchy-feely family moment smoothly, in a typical Claude fashion. Dimitri barely managed to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “And people with major and minor Crests can both use the Hero’s Relic associated with that Crest. They do give people some pretty cool tricks, though. Like his crazy strength.” Claude jerked a thumb at Dimitri.

Seliph and Leif turned to look at him, both curious. “You have one of these Crests?”

“Yes, I bear the minor Crest of the royal family of Faerghus. Claude has a Crest of his own, as well. And, yes, we believe my…unusual strength comes from my Crest.”

“Do you think that’s what the manaketes are talking about? The Holy Blood and the Crests?” Leif asked. “I mean, that doesn’t explain anybody else on this list, but that’s just because we don’t know if there’s something like that in other worlds, right?”

“You think they’re sensing some sort of divine gift we’ve been given?” Claude hummed at the thought. “I mean, they do keep telling me that they’re divine dragons. So maybe that’s not far off. Either way, it’s a good place to start.”

“I’m glad we could help,” Seliph said with a smile, even as he passed the list back to Claude.

“Let us know if we can help you in turn,” Dimitri said with a half-bow of gratitude.

“Actually, you’re both heirs to your countries, right?” Leif asked, brightening a bit. “Maybe you can help us figure out this trade issue?”

Dimitri was already nodding, a hand reaching out to grab Claude by the arm and prevent one of his famous _strategic retreats_. “Of course we can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. FE4&5 are the Fire Emblems I'm least familiar with, even if I do love Seliph, Leif, and Ares. Genealogy and Thracia remakes when, IS??? Here's hoping I didn't get Seliph and Leif too ooc, ha.


	4. Goddess Answers Prayer, Says "No"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, but your application for demigodhood has been denied.

When Claude slid easily into the seat beside him at breakfast, Dimitri knew what was coming. “More about that list of yours, Claude?”

“What, I can’t just sit by my old buddy Dimitri?” Dimitri gave him a Look, and Claude laughed. “Look, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, I just figured you might like to see this through. What with Crests being such a big deal in the Kingdom and all.”

Dimitri turned back to his meal and ate. It was fresh, warm, and utterly tasteless - at least, so far as he could tell. But it wasn’t unpleasant to eat. He considered Claude’s point. Crests were terribly important in the Kingdom, to the point of extremes in some cases. But what good would knowing that dragons could apparently sense them do him? There were no dragons in Fódlan, and they already had means to test for Crests. Knowing wouldn’t help him change the system.

“I don’t see what help I will be. Unless you’re expecting me to take notes for Professor Hanneman.”

Claude blinked at that, and then laughed like Dimitri had just told the funniest joke in the world. “Oh, man! Can you imagine what he’d say if he could hear about all this?”

Thinking about it for a moment longer, Dimitri couldn’t help a chuckle himself. The mental image_ was_ funny. “He would be unable to contain his excitement, that’s for certain. Can you imagine if he’d been present during our conversation with Seliph and Leif? We would never have gotten a word in once they began speaking about their holy blood.”

“How long do you think it would take for him to ask for a blood sample?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Two minutes, perhaps?”

Claude laughed more, and Dimitri found himself joining in. It was so terribly silly to think about. They spent the rest of breakfast debating how Professor Hanneman would attempt to interrogate the manaketes, and then how Linhardt might respond to all this information. (They both agreed he would get along famously with the Tikis, what with the shared penchant for napping.)

It was towards the end when Claude steered the conversation back towards his little mission. “Really, though. You sure you don’t wanna know, your Princeliness?”

“What do you gain from me knowing?”

“Someone that knows people in Askr that I don’t and thus might make connections I won’t.”

Dimitri inclined his head slightly in a silent _fair enough_. He might as well. He couldn’t deny his curiosity about it, nor that some of his friends would find the information interesting (if he could convince them that he was telling the truth, that is. How would he even begin to explain Askr?) And, well, someone still had to keep Claude from getting into too much trouble. He was better suited than most anyone else here, seeing as he was one of the few that had known Claude before being summoned. Not for very long, but still. It counted for something. “What is it that you are planning? You’ve already established that the dragons can’t tell us much more than we already know.”

“Well, we know that Holy Blood and Crests are both supposedly divine gifts, right? How would you like to come and talk to an actual goddess?”

Ordinarily Dimitri might have remarked on the way Claude so openly doubted divinity. Not that Dimitri held a lack of belief in the teachings of Seiros against him, but it was just so unusual in Fódlan. But that question had derailed any and all thoughts on the matter in favor of a different reaction. “…What?”

“You heard me.”

“There is a…goddess? Here?”

“So I hear. Wanna find out for ourselves?”

To meet a goddess. Dimitri wondered if Mercedes was aware. She would no doubt find it fascinating, even if it was not the goddess of Fódlan. He would have to tell her about this later, over their next sewing lesson. “Well, where do we find her?”

* * *

The goddess in question was…not at all what Dimitri expected.

Dimitri expected someone like the legends of Saint Seiros. Beautiful, serene, graceful, deadly. Everything a woman might aspire to be.

The one Dís directed them to when they asked for the goddess Yune was a literal child.

She couldn’t have been much older than the little Azura that Dimitri had spied sneaking his horse carrots on occasion. This was a goddess? He supposed that a goddess would not necessarily adhere to the rules and conventions of mortals, but it was still something that was very difficult to get his head around.

He was grateful to note that Claude also seemed to be having a bit of trouble with this entire situation. If Claude, who regularly declared himself the pinnacle of untrustworthiness, who prided himself on the ability to roll with whatever got thrown his way, was completely and utterly flabbergasted by this entire situation, well, Dimitri didn’t feel at all bad about being much the same.

Yune clearly wasn’t _normal,_ not with the way she was literally floating around the terrace she occupied, watching the sparring grounds below with an odd sort of fondness. But it was hard to get over her childish appearance.

She caught a glimpse of them from the corner of her eyes and turned, giving them a smile. “Hello.”

Her voice just made it even stranger. She looked like a child, but sounded like a grown woman. The disparity had them both staring in silent surprise for a moment. This seemed to amuse her, as she giggled lightly at their expense.

Claude found the ability to form words first. “Well hey there! You’re Yune, right?”

Claude’s complete lack of formality jolted Dimitri back into reality. “Claude, you can’t just—”

“Oh, come on, Your Princliness, we’re all supposed to be equal in Askr, right?”

“That’s not the point—”

Laughter cut off whatever chastisement Dimitri had planned on giving. Turning, the pair of them saw Yune laughing openly and merrily at their antics. “Oh, no, don’t stop on my account! You meatlings truly are wonderful, lively creatures.”

“Uh, meatlings?”

“Are you not made of meat?”

“I mean, I…guess…?” Even Claude was thrown by that. Dimitri wisely decided not to comment on it.

“Please forgive my friend’s lack of manners…” He chose to say instead, throwing a bit of a glare at Claude as he did so.

“It’s alright. You can speak to me in whatever way you’re comfortable with. I am not much one for formalities.”

Dimitri didn’t acknowledge the side-eye and grin Claude shot him. He wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“You are Yune, correct? The goddess of chaos…?” Dís had called her a chaos goddess. Dís had also specifically warned them not to call her a _dark god_ for whatever reason, and Dimitri didn’t trust Claude not to purposefully ignore that warning just to see what would happen. Sometimes he wondered if putting his fellow house leader in a place where death amounted to little more than a minor inconvenience wasn’t a terrible idea.

“Oh, finally one of you gets it!” She sounded so pleased. Dimitri could only wonder at why. All he did was ask who she was. “Yes, I am Yune. And I am chaos.”

“You think you could share a bit of divine wisdom with us?” Claude jumped back into the conversation, leaning forwards just a bit, eager for answers. Yune nodded and waved for him to continue, and so he did. “We were wondering if you can share power with mere mortal meatlings like us.”

“You’re asking for a blessing?” She tilted her head. “Whyever for?”

“No, but that’s pretty kind of you to of—_ow, hey!_” Claude glared at Dimitri, rubbing at the spot on his ribs where he’d just been elbowed. Dimitri didn’t even look at him, keeping his focus on Yune, who was laughing again. He hadn’t hit him hard enough to do anything more than bruise. He was much better about that sort of thing than he used to be.

“Actually, we were just wondering if you could tell us about it. After all, legend has it that the goddess of our world blessed our ancestors, and we carry some of that power with us.”

Yune floated a bit closer, looking over the two of them. “Another goddess’s blessing? That can’t be right. Blessings don’t work like that.”

Claude was on this like a cat on a string. “They don’t? So how do they work?”

“The blessed holds a bit of power, that’s all. On their weapons, or their armor. Otherwise they’re no different than any other bonesheath. You don’t look very blessed to me.”

The two boys exchanged a glance. Claude almost looked disappointed. It couldn’t be that they weren’t actually goddess-blessed, could it? He’d never put stock in the teachings of Seiros, as far as Dimitri was aware. Or maybe he was disappointed because he couldn’t go around making jokes about divine good looks and skill. That would be a very Claude thing to do. In that respect, he was rather like Sylvain, only with less issues behaving around women.

Yune tapped a finger to her chin, humming. “Are you sure you aren’t something different? You remind me of others from my world. The branded. Only with more beorc.”

“…What’s a branded? Actually, while we’re on the subject, what’s a beorc?”

Yune opened her mouth as if to reply, but the sound of a bell cut her off. “Oh, there’s a raid. How fun! Excuse me, but Dísir has requested I be a part of the defense.”

And with that, she turned and floated away, leaving them about as confused as when they’d first seen her.

* * *

Since the terms that were confusing them were from Tellius, they had no choice but to find someone from Tellius. Neither of them were particularly familiar with anyone from that world - they both knew of Soren, of course, but the likelihood of him actually bothering to talk to them was rather minuscule, at best. Zelgius was also someone they both knew on sight, because he was the one in charge of the Summoner’s guards, assuming he wasn’t simply taking the position for himself that day. But he was also not the terribly social sort. Dimitri had sparred with several members of the Greil Mercenaries on separate occasions, but couldn’t say he knew any of them particularly well. Claude had found a great deal of amusement in convincing that particularly strange Oliver that someone else had been hoping for beauty tips, but he absolutely did not want to try and have a serious conversation with the man. In his words, it would be like talking to Lorenz, only _worse_, because Lorenz wasn’t completely delusional. Mostly delusional, perhaps, but not completely.

The first person from Tellius they came across was not any of those people.

The first person from Tellius they came across was another fairly new addition to the Order, a man with ears and a tail like a cat and a grin to match. A man who could shift into the form of a great cat in the blink of an eye and rend his foes with claws. Dimitri wouldn’t deny that the whole thing was fascinating. To be able to change oneself on a whim like that - what would that be like? What would it be like to have great wings like some of the others he had seen around the keep? He’d never have the answer, but that didn’t stop him from wondering, no matter how childish it might have been.

“Hey! You’re from Tellius, right?” Claude asked, even though they both knew the answer to that already. Just about all the shape-shifters that weren’t dragons came from Tellius.

The man cocked his head and gave them a raised brow. “Sure am. And you two are from Fódlan, right? Not many people from those parts around here, not like the other worlds.”

“That’s true,” Dimitri nodded, “Dís says that the connection between Fódlan and Askr is new, and that’s why there are so few of us.”

“Is that so?” The man’s tail flicked as he considered that information. “That’s interesting to know.”

Dimitri had a sudden feeling that he was dealing with another Claude. Or at least, someone similar to Claude. Someone that would not stop poking their nose into things until they got the answers they were after. That sinking sensation of _oh goddess there’s two of them_ was cut off by the man’s cheerful follow up. “So, what do a pair of beorc like yourselves want from me?”

“Well, for starters, could you tell us what a beorc is?”

The man blinked, and then sputtered into laughter. “You are a beorc, of course! That’s what we call humans. When we’re being polite, that is. Folk like me, we’re called laguz. Are there none like us in Fódlan?”

“Nope,” Claude replied easily, “just boring ol’ humans. So, what’s a branded?”

The man shook his head just a bit. “This is like when I first met Ike all over again. But I guess I can’t blame you for not knowing, if there aren’t any laguz where you’re from. A branded is someone with both laguz and beorc blood. They’re called that because they have brands.”

Well that was straightforward. And brands…Seliph had mentioned that those with great amounts of holy blood bore brands. Not that that explained anything about Crests…

“Is Soren a branded?” Claude continued, easy as breathing.

The man’s brows rose. “Why don’t you ask him that yourself?”

“Alright, I will. Thanks!” Claude turned and ran off to do just that.

Watching the man’s face as Claude turned to leave, Dimitri had the sinking suspicion that they were missing some very important context, and that Claude was about to find it the hard way. If being branded was something good, like in Jugdral, why wouldn’t he have just said it outright? Or even if it was just something…not bad? There was something more to this and Claude was going to annoy one of the more infamously unsociable people in the Order to find out what.

“Hey, your Princliness! You coming?”

The man waved farewell, grin growing just a bit. Oh, yes, Dimitri knew that face. They had definitely just been set up for something mildly unpleasant. He sighed and turned to follow Claude.

* * *

Soren was wrapping up a meeting with Dís when they found him. They could tell the meeting was over by the way Soren was carefully stacking the papers full of his notes. Dís was still furiously scribbling at something, tongue poking out the corner of her mouth as she worked. It rather reminded Dimitri of Annette, actually.

“Hey, Soren!” Claude swept in with his typical easy cheer. “Are you a branded?”

And that was exactly the wrong thing to say. Soren went stiff, slowly turning to level a baleful glare over his shoulder. His red eyes, already mildly off-putting, became downright unsettling when narrowed in such utter contempt.

Dís’s forehead hit the desk in front of her with a dull thunk. “Ohmigod Claude_ no.”_ Dimitri found he agreed with the sentiment wholeheartedly, even if he had no idea why Soren was so upset.

Claude stopped, smile falling from his face. “What? Is that a bad thing?”

Soren scowled, turned away, and marched off with a curt “if you’ll excuse me.”

Dís thunked her head on the desk again. “Goddamnit Claude. Why’d you go and do that. You are_ so_ lucky he’s about to leave on a mission ‘cuz otherwise we’d all have to deal with a pissy Soren and a worried Ike all week.”

“I mean, I’d apologize if he were still here, but why’s he so upset? I thought being branded was a good thing? Seliph made it sound like it was.”

Dís raised her head, peering at the pair of them from under messy hair. She had horrible dark circles under her eyes again, Dimitri noted. She needed to get more sleep. Not that he was one to talk. “Not…quite the same thing. Look, branded in Jugdral means you’re someone important that gets a wicked cool weapon. Branded in Tellius means you get cast out by literally everyone if you’re _lucky,_ and suffer worse if you’re not._ Bit_ of a difference there.”

“Why would they be ostracized?” Dimitri could barely keep the beginnings of anger out of his tone. To treat someone so terribly because why, they were born a bit different? That hit close to home. It reminded him of how people judged Dedue so harshly, simply for being of Duscur. He would never understand it.

Claude likewise looked…displeased with the prospect, though he waited to see what Dís said next.

“I dunno. I asked Ike but he doesn’t get it either. Best guess I have is that’s just how it is, which is stupid, but like. Can’t change that from here.” Dís ran a hand through her hair, clearly unhappy about that. “But seriously, maybe don’t just randomly bring that up? You may not have to deal with him when his knickers are that twisted, but I do and it is _not_ fun.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t sound it.”

“You don’t _even_ know.” Dís sighed, her shoulders slumping. “What brought this on, anyways?”

“You remember that thing I told you about, with Fae and the flowers? And then with the Corrins?” Dimitri was almost surprised that Claude had talked to Dís about it, except when he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Dís knew each and every summoned Hero in the keep. If anyone could find a common thread between the collection the Corrins had named to Claude, it would be the summoner.

“Yeah? What, you think Soren’s on that list ‘cause he’s a branded?”

“So he is a branded!”

“I thought his reaction made that obvious…?” Dís’s head dropped a bit. “Whatever. That doesn’t explain the rest of people. Laguz are only in Tellius, and I can already tell you none of the people listed are related to the Wolfskin or Taguel, either. Not to mention that it was missing…actually, nevermind.”

But of course Claude jumped on that. “Missing who?”

Dís stuck her tongue out at him. “I said nevermind! How’d you even get to the whole branded thing, anyways?”

“We talked to Yune, and she mentioned we reminder her of the branded,” Dimitri answered this time, cutting off whatever Claude was going to say to try and wheedling the information Dís clearly didn’t want to give them out of her, “instead of being blessed by a goddess like her. Naturally we were curious.”

“Well, I think it’s pretty safe to say you’re not branded. You’d know if you were. What with the whole having a brand thing.”

“That is true, but it we were still curious to see what similarities we might have. The only other commonality we’ve found is with the Judgrali and their holy blood.”

Dís hummed, tapping her pen against her chin. “You mean like a divine pact and blood powers and all that jazz?”

“…Jazz? But, yes, that’s the case.”

“It’s a figure of speech. Hm. Well, maybe talk to Duma?”

“Duma? Isn’t he that big grumpy dragon that refuses to admit he thinks the kids are adorable?” Claude looked perplexed at the suggestion. “None of the other dragons I talked to could give me a real answer about anything.”

“Yeah, you said that, but thing is? Duma’s made one of those pacts with a family. Brand and fancy weapon and all. And he’s worshiped as a god in Valentia soooooo yeah.”

“Wha - why didn’t you mention him earlier?”

“You asked for a goddess! Duma most certainly is _not_ a god_dess._ Does not pass the physical exam on that one. Nor has he indicated being like, trans or something, so, uh, yeah. Definitely not a goddess.”

“Still!”

“Lay off, Claude, I didn’t know what you were even after! You just ran up all ‘hey, Dís, isn’t there a goddess on your payroll?’ If you were looking for something else, you should have said so!”

Dimitri forced his way back into the conversation before the argument could devolve further. Not into violence, no, but certainly into childish antics that he wasn’t sure he wanted to indulge right now. “Where would we find him?”

“Hrm. He’s not on aether raid defense this season, so…check around the arena? He likes to go there and see the strongest fight. If not there, maybe the training grounds or training tower? And if not there, then I have no clue. But if you ask around you’ll find him. He’s kinda hard to miss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession: My favorite thing about this entire fic is writing Claude and Dima reach exponentially greater levels of "wait, what?"
> 
> My second favorite thing is indulging in copious amounts of irony. Third is watching Dima get steadily more Tired of Claude's Shit TM.
> 
> The laguz is Ranulf, in case that wasn't already obvious. He's always struck me as a biiiiiit of a shit. And, well, respectful enough of Soren's privacy not to just out him like that.


	5. A Very Serious Discussion About Inter-Species Relationships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Wait, people can fuck dragons? Why would you fuck a dragon?"
> 
> "Why WOULDN'T you fuck a dragon?"

The initial search for Duma bore little fruit. He hadn’t been in the places Dís had suggested, and they’d gotten called away to battle the next day. But that was alright. Claude could be patient. It wasn’t like anyone was leaving Askr any time soon.

He could be patient, but that didn’t mean he’d enjoy it. He’d been digging through every scrap of information he could find in Garreg Mach, trying to figure out what the deal with Crests were and what the church was hiding. Then Teach had proved capable of using the Sword of the Creator - the _Sword of the Creator!_ \- and then Miklan Gautier had turned into a demonic beast, and _then_ Flayn got kidnapped because she supposedly had special blood. There were so many mysteries and no answers in sight - to find even a scrap of information that might solve one of them here in Askr was almost too good to be true. He wanted to get back to digging. But alas, he had to uphold his end of the deal that let him stay here in the first place.

At least he was in good company. Dimitri was fun to tease, and Roy was pretty easy to talk to. Veronica…well, she almost made him think of Lysithea, only a bit more reserved and a bit less scared of ghosts. Still easy to rile up, though. Dís sat behind the sable knight Camus, who had been picked for bodyguard duty today, staring down at that weird glowing tile thing that apparently helped her manage Heroes and their skills. She’d actually let him mess with it a couple of times, but he’d yet to really figure out how it did what it did. She insisted it wasn’t magic, but he wasn’t so sure.

They’d finished their task and were carrying home the spoils. It was an easy companionship they shared, riding along in the late afternoon and enjoying the breeze. Idyllic days like this were common in Askr. It made the whole place seem like a fairy tale. Dimitri was certainly looking around the landscape like it was one.

But that wasn’t going to last long, because Claude had had a thought and he wanted to run it by the other house leader. It was one of the reasons he’d recruited Dimitri into this whole scheme - he had a sensible enough head on his shoulders, when he wasn’t being a big ol’ softy. The other being that if they did find something that might, oh, strongly suggest that the Church of Seiros was lying to the people as a whole and that the way things were in Fódlan needed to change, he’d have someone to hopefully back him up. Of the two other future rulers, Dimitri was the more likely to work with Claude. Edelgard…Edelgard was after something, but Claude didn’t know what, and trying to get her to share anything was like pulling teeth with a thin string.

Nudging his horse to keep pace beside the Faerghus prince, Claude didn’t bother with the pleasantries. They were past that point by now.

“Hey, your Princeliness. I’ve had a thought.”

Dimitri turned, giving him his full attention, like the right proper princeling that he was.

“So you know how the branded thing is from two different types of people having a kid? And holy blood is a bloodline thing?” Dimitri nodded, and so Claude continued onwards. “What if they actually are the same thing?”

“I thought we had ruled that out?”

“We ruled out us being Tellius branded, but things work different in different worlds, right? Why couldn’t they be the same?”

“So you think we are…what, children of the goddess?”

“I mean, sure. Why not? She is supposed to be the mother of all life, right?”

“If she were the mother of all life, would not everyone have some sort of Crest in their bloodline, and not just the families of the Saints and the Elites? Besides, all we know about holy blood is that it’s some sort of divine pact. We don’t even know what sort of gods they have.”

“That’s easy,” Dís pipped up without even glancing their way, “they’re dragons. At least, I know for sure the two big ones are. Heck, one of ‘em is Tiki’s mom.”

“Wait, really?”

“A-yup. And if the two big ones are dragons I think it’s pretty safe to assume that the rest are dragons.”

“So you’re telling me holy blood is dragon blood?”

“Pretty much.”

“Huh. But my point still stands. The whole blood pact thing could be, y’know…” He nudged Dimitri with his elbow playfully.

Dimitri rolled his eyes and shook his head, but there was a rather obvious dusting of pink across his cheeks. There was also an obvious effort to keep both his face straight and tone even when he replied. “We do not even know if that’s possible, Claude.”

“If you’re talking about dragons and humans having children,” Roy spoke up, perplexed from the lack of context but clearly wanting to be helpful anyways, “it’s possible. I’m proof of that.”

“Wait. One of your parents is a dragon?” Claude wheeled around in his saddle to stare at Roy.

“Didn’t you know? Ninian is my mother.” Roy explained with a smile. Claude _hadn't_ known. Everyone knew that Eliwood was Roy's father, of course, the man was so endlessly proud of his son. Though, come to think of it, Eliwood also spent a rather large amount of time with Ninian. Claude felt a bit stupid for not realizing it sooner, but in his defense, Roy didn't...really look like his mother.

“…Can you turn into a dragon?”

“Nah. I’m only a quarter dragon.”

“Wait, but Ninian is an entire dragon?”

“Mother said her father was human,” Roy shrugged, “but he died long before I was born, so I can only take her word for it.”

Claude just blinked at him.

“Sophia’s half dragon, too, and she grew up in Arcadia, so she knows more about it than I do.”

Sophia and Roy were both part dragon? And holy blood was also dragon blood? That could explain why they were on the list. And that would imply that Soren was also part dragon, wouldn’t it? And also that Crests were related to dragons, as well. But that was harder to prove without knowing just what these divine pacts were. Claude resolved to drag Dimitri to find Duma as soon as they got back.

“So I’m right. This whole blood pact could be a fancy way to say that humans and dragons had kids.”

“But—what—how—” Dimitri sputtered, “how does that even _work?!_”

“They’ve got human forms, Dimitri,” Claude replied, a slow, sly grin spreading across his face. “Don’t tell me you actually thought that they’d do it as a giant winged lizard—”

“Claude, shut _up!_” Dimitri’s voice shot up to a terribly undignified pitch, even as his entire face turned a flaming red. Claude couldn’t help but cackle. He’d finally found the perfect way to rile the Faerghus prince up. _Priceless._

Before he could continue egging Dimitri on with the goal of seeing how red he could get the prince to turn before he outright passed out from embarrassment, something smacked him upside the head. “Stop it.”

He turned to eye Veronica, who was holding her staff ready to hit him again, and grinned when he saw the pink dusting her cheeks. “What’s the matter, Princess? Can’t handle an adult conversation?”

Veronica’s eyes narrowed. “The next time you’re about to die, I won’t be healing you.”

“Come on, you can cover your ears if it’s too grown-up for you, we won’t tell.”

“Summoner, may I kill him?”

“That would be a breach of contract, Veronica.” Dís looked completely disinterested in the conversation around her. Like this was something she’d heard plenty of times before and couldn’t be bothered to deal with again.

Claude’s grin widened. Sometimes he really did love Dís, she never attempted to reign him in like people back home did. Seteth would be busting a blood vessel or three if he were here for this, that was for sure. “But, really, is anyone else surprised that our sweet, innocent Prince Dimitri is the one to think of engaging with a dragon that’s not in its human form?”

“Wha—_Claude!_” Dimitri continued to sputter. “If you don’t stop,_ I’ll_ be the one to hit you next!”

“Not really,” Dís responded mildly, ignoring the way Dimitri flushed even deeper and shot her a look of utmost betrayal. “I mean, dragonfuckers are pretty tame as far as kinks go. I’ve seen a lot weirder.”

Okay, Claude had to admit that he had not seen that coming. “Weirder?”

“Sure. Spend long enough on the internet and you’ll stumble across some freaky shit.”

“Like…?”

Dís lifted her gaze just enough to give him a blank look, and then a slow shit-eating grin that was just slightly unnerving. “You want me to show you?”

“Please do not,” Camus interjected with a long-suffering sigh. “The last time you showed something from your internet to members of the Order it was chaos for a week.”

“Ruin _all_ my fun,” Dís muttered, shaking her head, even as she turned her attention back to her weird tile thing. “That meme wasn’t even _that_ obnoxious, I don’t know why everyone keeps complaining about it. I could do much worse.”

“Please do not,” Camus repeated, entirely straight-faced. Claude had to marvel at his composure. Unlike his fellow house leader, nothing seemed to have phased the sable knight. He might have to see how far that composure would take him sometime, when he next got bored.

“Can we talk about something else?” Roy sighed. “This is really strange to listen to, all things considered.” Roy was also managing to retain his composure remarkably well. Which was admirable, considering they were sorta talking about his parents, in a roundabout kind of way. Which is probably why he found the topic so uncomfortable. Nobody really wanted to talk about their parents like that.

“It is remarkably immature,” Veronica added, reminding him all too much of Lysithea, trying to come off as older than she really was.

“You are our leading authority on immaturity, aren’t you, princess?” Claude shot back, grinning as she flushed and glared. She tried so hard to maintain the air of adulthood, but a little prod and her composure went out the window. She could learn a thing or two from Camus.

Speaking of composure, Dimitri was slowly starting to regain his. Which meant that Claude_ had_ to take the opportunity and rile him back up again.

“So, your Princeliness, you ready to ask Duma about how he made sure there was a family line that has his blood—”

Dimitri all but wailed in despair and annoyance._** “Claude!”**_

Veronica groaned. Roy sighed. Camus looked like he was trying very hard to pretend that he couldn’t hear any of this. Dís remained unimpressed. “Claude, if they decide to murder you, I’m not stopping them.”

“I thought that was a breech of contract?”

“It would be if you weren’t working so hard to earn it.” Dís tucked her little tile into her pocket and gave him a raised brow. “But that clause is in the contract for a reason. If you keep provoking them to violence, you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”

“Fine, I get it. I’ll stop. For now.” Claude brought a hand to his forehead, brushing his fingers through his bangs, doing everything he could to make the motion as dramatic as possible. “We have to protect the ears of the innocent, after all.”

Veronica hit him again. He didn’t even mind.

He did drop the subject, as he said he’d would. He had plenty to think about, after all. If the dragons really were sensing dragon blood, that would make a remarkable amount of sense. But it would also have some interesting implications for Fódlan. After all, there weren’t people that could change into dragons on a whim running around, right? So if they had been there at some time, something had to have happened to them. And what’s more, wouldn’t there be records of them somewhere?

As he pondered, he kept an eye on Dimitri. When the prince’s blush finally died down, Claude caught his eye and gave him an eyebrow wiggle.

Watching him turn beet red and put his face in his hands with a groan was _totally_ worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I write this entire chapter just to start a running joke that's gonna haunt Dimitri for the rest of this fic? Maaaaaaaybe
> 
> What even is a consistent chapter length.


	6. When in Doubt, Punch it Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Real men form friendships with fistfights.

Of all the things Dimitri expected to do today, fist-fighting a war god was not among them.

When did this become his life? If someone had told him that half-way through his year at the Academy he was going to get called into another world, the moment he realized they weren’t joking he would have asked if they were feeling alright. If they had then told him he would be dealing with dragons and heroes and even gods, he would have laughed nervously in concern. And if they had told him that one of those dragon-gods was going to challenge him to a one-on-one match, he probably would have made a hasty exit.

And yet. Here he was. He would have wondered if it was a dream, except there wasn’t nearly enough fire and death and screaming to be one of his dreams, so clearly he was awake.

Also getting punched in the ribs still hurt, so yeah, he was definitely awake. And still wondering how it was his life had come to this.

Claude had let up with his teasing for a while — mostly — which Dimitri had been grateful for, because he could only take so much before his temper frayed and the beast he was reared its head, and he didn’t want anyone in Askr witnessing that. Better they saw the princely mask he wore and not what hid beneath it.

The pair of them had agreed to wait until dinner and find Duma then, partially because they were hungry and partially because everyone else had to eat too. Even dragons that were worshiped as gods. It wasn’t a bother, being camped out in the dining hall for longer than normal. There were plenty of interesting people to talk to, and plenty to joke about with one another besides. Claude had decided to make a game of “figure out who Felix would challenge to a fight first if he were here” and, well, it was a challenge because there were so many that his friend would want to spar with. If he tried to list them, he’d have a good quarter of the Order at least.

They’d managed to narrow the list down somewhat when Duma had entered.

Dimitri had never spoken to Duma, nor even seen the man for longer than in passing. He’d heard bits and pieces about him, of course — the younger dragons did so love to talk. The way they told it, Duma was stoic and distant, but still nice enough. He wasn’t sure how accurate an assessment that would be, all things considered, but he hoped there was still truth to it. Claude had done a bit of asking over dinner, and discovered that Duma was worshiped as the god of strength, the War Father, and the patron of the empire of Rigel on the continent of Valentia. None of which meant much to either of them.

Claude had risen and gone to sit at the table Duma had chosen, and Dimitri had followed him, and they attempted friendly conversation. Friendly conversation had turned out to be…difficult, because Duma didn’t appear to particularly care for conversation, friendly or not. He had demanded their business, and Claude had cut to the chase.

Duma had asked why they wanted to know. Dimitri had explained about Crests and their desire to see if it was anything like whatever pact Duma had made.

This had caught the dragon’s attention. He’d pondered it for a bit as he ate, and then promptly told them that if they wanted answers, they would have to prove their strength to him in a bout. Claude had instantly declared that Dimitri would do great and clapped him on the shoulder, and that was how he found himself following a war god onto the training grounds and engaging in a duel.

Thankfully they’d decided upon a fist-fight, because Dimitri really didn’t feel like jousting with a dragon today.

Duma was not to be taken lightly, even in his more human form. But that didn’t mean Dimitri was going to go down easy. He wasn’t particularly well-trained in brawling, but Dedue was, and often times Dimitri was Dedue’s sparring partner, because he didn’t trust some of the other men there not to use sparring as an excuse to inflict harm upon his friend for being of Duscur. Add to that the unnatural strength gifted to him by his Crest, and Dimitri wasn’t an opponent to be taken lightly in the ring, no matter what he was armed with.

Judging by the glint in Duma’s eyes and the barest hint of a smile on his face, Duma had discovered this, and was enjoying every minute of it.

Claude was on the sidelines, shouting out support and teasing criticism in equal measure. Other voices joined in - they’d attracted an audience. These were all distant realizations.

In the moment, all there was for Dimitri was the fight. He ducked under a swing, driving his elbow into the man’s side and sliding around the retaliatory hammer blow. His next attack was swatted aside and a hook sent him back a few steps, but it wasn’t nearly enough to remove him from the fight. The way they circled one another, lashing out and weaving between each other’s strikes, brought him a sense of peace. Combat was simple. There was no ulterior motives, no hidden agendas, no unspoken rules. Just the fighters testing themselves against one another. If only everything else in life could be so pure and uncomplicated.

Dimitri lost track of time as the bout carried on. Dodge, kick, punch, dodge, block, throw. Over and over again. Nothing else existed as they fought. No secrets, no regrets, no tragedy. Just the opponent in front of him and the thrill of battle in his veins.

He was almost disappointed when he was sent sprawling to the ground and pinned. But he could not find the purchase to free himself, and so he had to surrender. Duma hummed, stood, and offered a hand to pull him to his feet.

With the match over, he finally became more aware of his surroundings. There were cheers and applause coming from outside the ring - he recognized Claude’s voice, and Mercedes, and that booming laugh could only be Hector. Glancing over, he saw a couple of others - dame Sully and princess Hinoka, there was one of the Corrins and the young Tiki, and there was the Professor, as well. He was giving Dimitri a quiet round of applause, the faintest smile curving his lips. It was a fight not to beam at the sight of it, and to keep from flushing from the praise.

Claude hopped the fence around the ring and jogged up to them, wasting no time in clapping Dimitri on the shoulder. “I knew you’d do great.”

“Indeed, it was a fine match,” Duma rumbled beside him, “as thanks, I will answer you questions. Ask.”

“Great! So, we were wondering—”

“Hold.” Duma’s gaze narrowed at Claude, just slightly. “I said I will answer _his_ questions. He is the one that has demonstrated his strength.”

Dimitri couldn’t help the small huff of laughter at Claude’s briefly scandalized expression. Apparently his fellow house leader had not anticipated that his scheme to let Dimitri handle the heavy lifting would backfire. It was rather satisfying, actually, to see the self-proclaimed schemer foiled, if only slightly. Claude composed himself quickly, of course, and made a big show about heaving a disappointed sigh. “Well, Your Princeliness, you know what we’re after.”

“What knowledge do you seek?” Duma crossed his arms over his chest, adding to his already imposing figure. But his gaze was full of respect for a worthy opponent.

“I mentioned earlier that we believe our Crests are similar to the pact you made with the imperial family of Rigel. I was hoping you could tell us more about it. We’re curious as to the source of our own power.”

Duma hummed in consideration, the sound a deep rumble in his chest. “The pact is forged of blood. Those fortunate enough to be chosen are granted great power, and the ability to wield sacred weapons. They are marked with a brand, a symbol of the their benefactor.”

Claude nudged him in the side with his elbow. When Dimitri glanced over, he wiggled his eyebrows _just so_. Dimitri had to fight not to make a face of exasperation and disgust. He could tell what Claude wanted him to ask and he was not going to indulge his fellow house leader.

“What sort of power do they receive?” He asked instead. Claude made a noise that was one part annoyance and two parts amusement.

Duma either didn’t notice the exchange, or, more likely than not, had elected to simply ignore it, like he was doing with just about everything Claude was doing. “Strength. Speed. Stamina. They become an example of the strength humanity can achieve. Some have unparalleled martial prowess, some become great mages.” Duma cocked his head just slightly. “You have seen such examples, if what you say of your ‘Crests’ is true. You are one yourself.”

So Duma did believe that Crests were the same as the pacts he was describing. That wasn’t something to be taken lightly - one would assume someone capable of making such a thing would be able to recognize another.

Claude cleared his throat conspicuously. Dimitri took a deep breath in through his nose, but otherwise ignored him. “Is it possible for one dragon to make many pacts?” Duma nodded. “Would they have the same effects and brands?”

“That is correct.”

Dimitri frowned at that, his hand coming up to his chin as he mulled it over. If a single dragon made multiple pacts, they were the same? That would mean that each Crest would be from a different dragon, and not the singular goddess. Unless the Elites and Saints were dragons themselves, and that’s how they had the Crests? But that wouldn’t make sense, because they had supposedly been normal people before being granted that power.

“So there is no way that my Crest and Claude’s could come from the same source?”

Duma glance at Claude, assessing him for a moment. Then his gaze settled back on Dimitri. “No. The powers you each carry feel distinct. They are not from the same benefactor.”

Dimitri didn’t know how to respond to that. That would imply that the stories he’d grown up hearing about Blaiddyd and Fraldarius and the rest of the Elites were all wrong. Then again, the stories were over a thousand years old, and time had a way of blurring the details…

Claude’s stare bored into him. He resisted the urge to groan. He supposed it _was_ worth asking, but did Claude have to be such a pest about it?

“You said the pact was made with blood. How?” He tried to ignore the vaguely disappointed sound Claude made. No doubt he wanted Dimitri to just come out and ask if Duma had bed a human woman, but Dimitri refused to be so utterly crass.

“A transfusion. The human receives my blood, and with it, a fragment of my power.” Claude made another noise of disappointment. Dimitri held back a sigh of relief. He didn’t think he’d ever hear the end of it if it had been…familial relations.

“And you think my Crest is much the same?”

“I do. I could feel the power within you as we fought. I can even feel it now.”

“…Would the other dragons be able to sense it, as well?”

“I would imagine so.”

Well, that solved that particular mystery. “Thank you for indulging my curiosity,” Dimitri said with a bow.

Duma nodded. “I would be pleased to spar with you again, if you are willing.”

“I believe I would enjoy that as well,” Dimitri replied. With that, Duma took his leave, and Dimitri decided that it was time to get a bath. The aches from Duma’s blows were starting to set in, and he didn’t relish the thought of sore on the morrow.

“Well, that was enlightening,” Claude commented, folding his hands behind his head.

“It does leave us with a great many more questions…”

“That means we’re on the right track!” Claude beamed, grinning irrepressibly. Dimitri was suddenly struck by the sense that his friend was having the time of his life. “If we keep digging, we’ll find something that makes it all make sense. Trust me.”

“I take it you’ve already decided on our next move?”

“Sure have. But it can wait ‘til tomorrow. It’ll probably take us all day.”

Dimitri blinked. “Oh? You intend to bother that many people?”

“Who says we’re bothering anybody?”

“If there was anything in the library that would help us, you would have found it by now,” Dimitri pointed out with the beginnings of a smile, “so you must have people you want to talk to.”

Claude’s grin widened. He seemed pleased that Dimitri had put that together. “That’s right. We still haven’t figured out the deal with the rest of the people on the list! One of them might have something a bit more like our Crests, don’t you think?”

“I will meet you at breakfast, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akahgkahgkahg my apologies for taking so long. Finals fed into a much-needed vacation fed into the Hell Semester, as I have taken to calling it, and everything decided to happen all at once in January. I am Tired.
> 
> I have much less free time this semester, so things will probably be slow, but I AM going to finish this!


	7. The Superpower Origin Unification Theory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have superpowers? Dragons did it.

True to his word, Dimitri found Claude over breakfast. He looked like he wouldn’t know what a good night’s sleep was if it came up and tried to smother him with a pillow, but he was awake and able to converse. Claude couldn’t help but pry just a little, but Dimitri laughed off the jokes he used and assured him he was fine. If he was telling the truth, Claude would eat a day’s worth of Flayn’s cooking when he got back to Garreg Mach, but he kept that to himself. He didn’t want to alienate Dimitri right now. He gained a lot more from working _with_ him, after all. Both immediately and in the future.

“So, who do we speak with first, Claude? You indicated that you had many in mind.”

“Whoever we find, I guess. Honestly I’d prefer to find someone from each world, just to be sure.”

“Well, we already know about Judgral and Elibe, if I am not mistaken?”

“And Tellius, and Valentia. And there’s nobody from Magvel or Archanea on the list.”

“It seems we have made more progress than I had originally thought.”

Claude nodded, taking a bite of his meal. When they actually sat down and listed the worlds, it didn’t seem like as much work as when they looked at each of the individual people, did it? There were only ten worlds (maybe fewer, he’d heard that Archanea and Valentia were neighboring continents), not counting the one Dís came from. And they’d already knocked out seven of them! Only three left to go, and they’d be able to say for sure if the dragon blood theory held water.

And if it_ did_, then he would have a lot more questions than answers, but at least he’d be going in the right direction. He was practically vibrating in his seat at the thought of it. The origin of Crests and Heroes’ Relics was so close he could practically taste it!

Or maybe that was the melted cheese on his omelet. Mmm, cheese.

* * *

“Uh, Morgan? What are you doing?”

The first useful person they found was someone Claude would actually call a friend. Morgan was cheerful, and creative, and not afraid to think out of the box or take risks. He had a mind for strategy and an adaptability that would be frankly intimidating once he really got the hang of putting it to use. Most importantly, Morgan didn’t mind getting in trouble, which made him perfect for schemes, either as a partner or just a piece.

That didn’t mean Claude always knew what he was thinking.

“Why are you…digging a hole?” Dimitri’s confusion was mixed with some concern. “In a place where people might step in it?”

Morgan paused in his work long enough to throw them a beaming grin. Honestly, Claude was kinda impressed. The hole was already half as deep as Morgan was tall, and wide enough that the he and Dimitri could climb in and join in the digging without being _too_ touchy-feely with each other. Morgan had even secured a small rope ladder on one side, to make sure he didn’t accidentally trap himself. From the look of it, he was doing it all by himself, too. That was dedication.

“I’m making a pitfall!” Morgan cheerfully informed them, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve noticed that a lot of people around here don’t keep a proper eye out for traps in the field, so I’m working to promote awareness with real-world experience, and practicing my trap-making skills at the same time! Clever, right?”

Claude exchange a look with Dimitri. Dimitri looked confused and frankly just a little flabbergasted at Morgan’s cheerful audacity. His eyes were asking for Claude’s help in stopping this madness before it could really begin, which, honestly, he should know better than to do. Claude shrugged and fought down a smile. He wasn’t one to stop the mostly harmless kind of madness.

“Morgan,” Dimitri began, “you do realize that people will not be expecting a trap here, where they are supposed to be safe, don’t you?”

“That’s what makes it such a good lesson! Even in your home base, you gotta be careful. Assassins and spies could slip in at any time!”

“He’s not wrong,” Claude commented, and had to smother his burgeoning laughter behind a hand at the exasperated look Dimitri gave him. He wasn’t lying, Morgan did have a point - if you ignored the fact that assassins and spies probably wouldn’t be digging pitfall traps.

“You could hurt someone,” Dimitri tried again, in that tone of impending frustration that had been leveled at Sylvain many a time.

“Don’t worry! I’m not digging them that deep!” Morgan gave his fellow house leader a brilliant smile. “The worst anyone is gonna get is a twisted ankle! Probably.”

“Probably?! _Morgan!”_ Dimitri was sputtering, just slightly, at the flippant answer he received. “This is incredibly irresponsible!”

“Yeah,” Claude jumped in, cutting off the indignant tirade that Dimitri was surely about to launch into, “have you even taken a break since you started? That’s not good for you. You need to take the time to stretch and get some water.” Claude took it as a point of personal pride that he didn’t devolve into fits of mirth at the utterly scandalized look Dimitri shot him.

“Oh, right. I guess I am kinda thirsty.” Morgan set the shovel aside and hauled himself out of the hole. Claude held out a hand for him to take, which he did with a smile. “I’ll make sure to bring some back so I’ll have it nearby…”

“Hey, while you’re on break, can I ask you something?” He brushed the dirt off his hands and began to follow Morgan towards the nearest well, cheerfully talking over Dimitri’s protests.

“Sure!” Morgan likewise seemed to be ignoring Dimitri. Or maybe he just honestly hadn’t noticed the princling was trying to protest his life choices. Either way, Claude couldn’t say it wasn’t highly entertaining.

“Are there any weird dragon blood-pacts or something along those lines in your world? Maybe with strange birthmarks or powerful weapons?”

“Dragon blood pacts? With strange birthmarks?” Morgan blinked and then his expression lit up. “OH, you mean like the Mark of the Exalt! Yeah, we’ve got that!”

Well, that was another world accounted for. “Mind telling me about it?”

“Well, a long time ago, the first Exalt of Ylisse made a pact with the divine dragon Naga - y’know, Tiki’s mom? - and she gave him her blood and some of her power. Members of the royal family that have the Mark of the Exalt inherited that pact, and they can use Falchion! For most people it’s just a dull old sword, but if you have the Mark, it’s sharp enough to cut through all sorts of things cleanly! Like wood, or armor, or fruit!”

“…Fruit.” Dimitri’s tone echoed the bemusement that Claude felt…though with perhaps a fair bit more lingering frustration. He seemed to have given up on the scolding, at least. That was nice, though Claude was sure he was going to catch an earful later.

“Yup! But Lucina doesn’t like it when people cut fruit with Falchion.” He nodded sagely as he divulged this.

“This Mark of the Exalt…would that be the strange shape in Lucina’s eye?” Wait, Lucina had a mark in her eye? Claude had never really spoken to her, so he’d never noticed. He made a mental note to check it out. But this is why he’d recruited Dimitri, to help fill in the gaps in his knowledge!

“Yup! That’s the one! Mother has a mark, too! Except, uh, she’s not so proud of hers.”

“Robin has a mark?”

Morgan nodded. “On her hand.” He touched the back of his own hand to indicate where he meant. “It’s the mark of Grima. She’s not sure how she got it, though. It was a secret, but since the Grimas turned up, it’s sorta out in the open now?”

“Is _that_ why the Grimas’ vessels look like the Robins?” Dimitri asked, visibly disturbed.

“Yup. Dunno how that happened though. Mother doesn’t like talking about it, and neither does Grima. Good luck if you try to ask, though!” Morgan aimed that last statement specifically at him. That was how Claude knew they were friends - Morgan knew that he’d ask, and wished him well, and had no intentions of telling him how bad of an idea it was or try and stop him. Claude wished he could take Morgan back to the Academy with him. He’d be a good student, and a lot of fun to have around besides. After all, what would be more priceless than Seteth’s face after finding himself at the bottom of a well-placed pitfall?

“Thanks. And thanks for indulging my curiosity. Good luck with your pitfalls!”

Morgan thanked him and ran off with a wave and a call for them to keep an eye out. Claude would. He would not, however, be warning anyone else. He rather wanted to see how all of this chaos played out. Judging by the look Dimitri was giving him, the Faerghus prince would be warning people, which was to be expected. Dimitri really was too nice for his own good.

“Well, that’s another one down.” He shot Dimitri a grin, and got a huff in return. But no scolding. Yet.

“And more questions. Do all of these pacts allow…whatever the Grimas have done to happen?” There was a note of concern, which Claude could understand. He didn’t particularly want to be possessed by the spirit of Riegan or something. He would rather stay himself, thanks very much.

“Maybe it’s a different kind of pact? Duma didn’t mention anything about it to you, and he didn’t strike me as the kind to care about hiding that sort of thing.”

“The Grimas do delight in sowing pain and suffering,” Dimitri half spat the statement out, “so perhaps they see the ones that bear their mark as being tools. …Monsters.”

“No way of knowing for now,” Claude shrugged the idea off with a careful constructed flippancy. He didn’t like that dark look in Dimitri’s eyes, or that low growl that was starting to seep into his voice. “We can ask around later, but I think we should stick with one line of questions at a time, y’know?”

“Ah, right. Forgive me.” That dark look faded, but his fists were still clenched tight, even as he gave Claude a reassuring smile. “Who’s next?”

* * *

Finding Prince Takumi shooting targets wasn’t out of the ordinary. He was a perfectionist, always pushing himself; the sort of attitude that came from having talented older siblings that one was constantly being compared to. Claude didn’t mind Takumi, the prince was a bit tightly wound and prickly at first, but once his guard lowered he was actually a pretty interesting guy. When he’d first gone ‘round asking about the whole Hoshido-Nohr thing, Claude had managed to wrangle a promise to teach him some strategy game called Shogi out of the prickly prince, but their schedules had yet to line up enough for him to make good on it. Maybe when_ this_ investigation was done, he’d come pester him about it.

Finding Prince Takumi shooting targets wasn’t out of the ordinary, but finding Teach standing next to him, chin cupped in his hand as he watched the prince’s every move, was a little unexpected. Takumi’s white-and-gold oddly-shaped bow - what was it called again? Fuji something? - sat off to the side, gleaming in the sunlight.

Teach glanced over, noting their presence, but said nothing, instead turning back to listen as Takumi said something. Claude couldn’t catch what was said, but Teach nodded, eyes closing. Claude would guess that he was considering whatever the prince had told him.

Takumi turned and made to raise his bow (also oddly shaped - why was the top longer than the bottom?) again, but paused when he clocked them out of the corner of his eye. He turned to face them, waiting until they were closer to speak. “Hey. Coming to shoot?”

“Nah. Actually, I’m looking for you. Got a minute?”

Takumi glanced between him and Dimitri, before tucking his bow under his arm. “Sure, I could use a break anyway.” He went about unstringing the bow, wrapping the string in protective oilcloth and setting it and the wood aside for later.

“There’s a table over here,” Teach remarked, gesturing for them to follow. Takumi waved them off, saying that he’d be there as soon as he’d gathered his arrows.

“What were you doing, Professor? If it’s not too forward of me to ask.” Dimitri glanced between Takumi and Teach.

“I was asking about Hoshidan techniques. Learning a wide variety of approaches helps one be prepared for anything in battle. If I can integrate some of their methods into my lessons, it will help you all survive on the field.”

“Your dedication is inspiring, Professor,” Dimitri said as he pulled out a chair and sat, “truly. We are lucky to have you.”

Claude took his own seat, leaning back on the rear legs of the chair, hands behind his head. “Did you learn anything interesting? Hoshidan bows don’t look that different from ours.”

“Yumi are not symmetrical, like our bows are, and their approach is vastly different. And their katanas and naginatas,” he added as he turned to Dimitri, “are shaped similar to the killer swords and lances back home.”

Dimitri sat up a little straighter - Claude didn’t know how, when he already sat perfectly straight and proper - at that. “Is that so? I will have to see for myself.”

Differently shaped weapons, huh? That was pretty interesting. Most of the other worlds had very similar styles of arms as Fódlan, barring some unique pieces. Hoshido was just plain odd, which made them fascinating. It would be something to keep him occupied on a rainy day…after he’d figured out this mess.

Dimitri and Teach continued their conversation about naginata and if the Hoshidan style would be useful for him to know - apparently Areadbhar had a similar curved shape to it, as well? Huh. Learned something new every day. But it didn’t take long for Takumi to join them, leaning his fancy yumi against the table and sinking into his own chair with a bit of a “whew!”

“So. What did you want to know?”

“Are you related to any dragons?” When Takumi just raised an eyebrow, Claude elaborated, “besides Corrin and Kana, I mean. Actually, why is Corrin a dragon if none of the rest of you are?”

Takumi shrugged. “I dunno. The whole thing is…complicated. Corrin’s my sibling, except not really, except they are, and—I stopped trying to figure it out.” He shook his head. “The royal family of Hoshido is descended from the Dawn Dragon, though.”

“Descended from?” Claude couldn’t help the beginnings of a grin. “You mean like, your many-many-many-really-many-great-grandparent is a dragon?”

“That’s how the story goes.”

Claude turned to stare at Dimitri, who had suddenly found a great deal of interest in the clouds. Takumi glanced between them, clearly knowing that he’d missed something but not entirely sure he wanted to ask. Teach just pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed lightly. Where did he pick that up, Seteth? Because that was a very Seteth sort of reaction.

“So, uh. Why are you asking?”

Dimitri leapt for the chance to change the subject, which just had Claude chuckling. His fellow house leader was predictable like that. “We’ve recently learned that our Crests - powers that trace back to heroes of old in our world - might be related to dragons in some way, so we’re trying to learn what we can.” Teach perked up slightly at that. He had a Crest too, after all, and if he knew where he’d gotten it from he hadn’t shared. “We were hoping that speaking to others with similar circumstances might enlighten us.”

“Oh, I see.” Takumi nodded to himself. “Well, being the descendants of the Dawn Dragon lets us use dragon veins - ah, places where power collects that we can use to manipulate the world around us.” He scratched at his chin a bit. “I’d show you, but there don’t seem to be any in Zenith.”

“Are there any special weapons?” Dimitri pressed. “Most Crests of Fódlan have a relic weapon associated with them. Professor’s Sword of the Creator, for example.”

“Sure. My Fujin Yumi, for example.” He picked up the fancy yumi and laid it on the table for them to see. “It’s said to have a wind spirit within. Only members of the Hoshidan royal family can use it, and only after a lot of training.” Takumi had puffed up, just a bit - not unlike a rooster strutting around. Claude kept the comparison to himself, but couldn’t say that it didn’t amuse him. The puff of hair on the top of Takumi’s ponytail didn’t really help dispel the mental image.

“So, right now you’re the only one that can,” He said instead, by means of clarification. The Hoshidan prince nodded. “How does it work? I don’t see any string or anything.”

“It makes it’s own.” Takumi stood, lifting the Fujin Yumi and giving it a twirl in his hand. He turned towards the distant targets, and raised his hand as if to draw a string - and with a _woosh_ of rushing wind, a glowing green string formed. An arrow followed soon after. Takumi aimed, and fired, and one of the targets in the distance fell over from the force of the ensuing impact.

Claude whistled appreciatively. That was a good shot, and that was a better bow. To have a bow that didn’t run out of arrows - he couldn’t rightly think of a downside that couldn’t be covered with having a knife on his belt. Teach applauded quietly. Dimitri muttered a soft “amazing!”

Takumi sat back down with a grin, clearly pleased with the praise.

“Man. I’m jealous. My fancy bow still needs arrows.” Claude said, effecting a great sigh. He’d seen Failnaught and its special arrows before, even if he’d never actually gotten to use the thing. Takumi laughed a bit at that. “So, there’s your Yumi. Any others?”

“Well, there’s Ryoma-niisan’s Raijinto,” Takumi replied, “it has a lightning spirit. And the Nohrians have their sword and tome.”

“So the Nohrian royal family is also descended from a dragon?” Claude asked, and was sure to give a little eyebrow waggle when he said_ descended_. He could almost _hear_ Dimitri rolling his eyes in response.

“They’re descended from the Dusk Dragon, instead the Dawn Dragon, but yeah.”

“And Corrin’s sword?” Teach asked, head tilting just slightly. “Is it the same?”

“Sort of? It was supposedly made by the same guy? But he’s dead, so I couldn’t tell you much more than that. Just that not even me or Ryoma-niisan can use it, and I don’t think Prince Xander or any of the other Nohrians can either?”

“So it’s kinda like Teach’s sword, then. Special even among legendary weapons.”

“Guess so.”

* * *

“Thanks again for the help, you two!”

After leaving Teach and Takumi to their yumi talk (with a warning about pitfalls from Dimitri, the spoilsport), Claude and Dimitri had gone in search of Prince Alfonse. They hadn’t actually found him - but they _did_ find his sister, and in need of some help hauling fertilizer for the gardens, at that. Dimitri, being Dimitri, offered to help, and ended up carrying about twice as much as either Claude or Sharena could manage, which she found delightful.

“It’s no trouble,” Dimitri replied with that perfectly princely smile of his.

Claude, being Claude, found it to be a perfect opportunity. Sharena might not have been as well-read as her brother (by her own admission), but she was always willing to answer whatever she could, and this shouldn’t be _too_ hard a question, right?

“Hey, while we’re here, could you answer something for me?”

“Sure! What’s up?”

“I hear that Askr is named after some divine dragon or something. Can you tell me more about that?”

“Well, Alfonse would know more than I would, but I can try!” Sharena adjusted her grip on the bags she was carrying as she thought for a moment. “Well, the story goes that a long time ago, the first king of Askr, Líf, and the first Emperor of Embla, Thrasir, made a pact with the divine dragons Askr and Embla. Líf got the power to open gateways, and Thrasir the power to close them. The two supposedly swore an oath promising that their descendants would work together to defend the gateways and the worlds they led to.”

Líf and Thrasir…weren’t those the names of the generals they were facing? Man, things in Askr were weird.

“As I understand it, Askr and Embla are on uneasy terms now, are they not?” Dimitri looked down at them, frowning. “What changed?”

“I don’t know! But I think it might do with that curse Zacharias is trying to break.”

“A curse…?”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know much about that! And I don’t think I should be saying much more anyways!”

Claude heaved a great sigh at that, but let it go. He had other things to worry about, and he was sure he could ask about it later. Also, judging by the look Dimitri was giving him, if he did try to pressure Sharena into talking, the prince might just “accidentally” stumble and hit him with a bag of fertilizer and he didn’t feel like dealing with that right now.

“Well, if anyone asks, we didn’t hear anything from you,” Claude replied, and Sharena gave him a grateful smile in return. “What about the other countries? Like Nifl? Are they named after divine dragons too?”

“Sure are!” Sharena nodded, beaming. “Nifl is the ice dragon, and Múspell is the flame dragon! You’d have to ask Princess Fjorm or Princess Laegjarn about them if you wanted to know more, but I think their magical abilities come from those dragons! I know they have special rites they can perform.” She dimmed a bit at mentioning that, but bounced back pretty quick. Claude did admire that about Sharena. She always managed to bounce back to being cheerful quickly.

“I’m guessing you don’t know much about them either?”

“Not really!”

“Are there any for Askr?”

“We’ve found a couple! Like the one we used to summon Dís! And there was one to activate the sacred seal forge, too.”

“So most of them are lost to time, then?” Dimitri mused, even as he began placing the bags down where Sharena indicated.

“I guess so. Alfonse has been digging through the library to find out what he can. And our father…might have known more, but…” Sharena dimmed again, setting her own bags down with a sad look.

Dimitri picked up on it immediately, and seemed rather distressed by it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories…”

“Oh, you’re okay!” Sharena managed to smile at him. “I’m okay. Thank you for your concern, though! Now, let’s go get the rest of these bags!”

“Ugh, how many more are there…?” Claude rolled his shoulders and made a show of complaining, which had both Sharena and Dimitri chuckling.

“Only another trip! C’mon, you can do it!”

“It’s the least we can do to repay her for indulging your curiosity, after all,” Dimitri added.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Though I still think I should’ve let you handle this one.”

“Oh, no, I’m not falling for that again…”

Claude laughed at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the world is going mad and I've gotten blessings from work and school to be a hermit, so. Let's work on fanfics!
> 
> As an aside, I love Morgan so much.


	8. Hiding in Plain Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But where are the dragons?" asks the guy who goes to a school run by a church whose symbol is a dragon

“So everyone else on the list has dragon blood in them.” Claude was pacing back and forth, a look of deep concentration on his features. Dimitri sat at Claude’s desk, watching his fellow house leader pace while he sipped his tea. Claude had called it Almyran Pine, something he’d presumably gotten a taste for from all the trade that flowed through Derdriu. Dimitri couldn’t comment on the taste, but the warmth of the tea and the simple action of drinking some with a friend was enough for him. That is, if Claude would actually sit and drink his.

After they’d finished asking around about various people and their relations with dragons, Claude had all but dragged Dimitri back to his room for tea and conversation. The man’s room was a mess of books and papers scattered around; Dimitri saw subjects ranging from the history of Nohr and Hoshido to a treatise on the tribes of Sacae to — unsurprisingly — dragons. The notes were all in Claude’s slanted scrawl, and most of the ones on the desk, at least, seemed relevant to their search. Not that Dimitri was bothering to read through them all. Not with Claude wandering back and forth like an impatient hunting hound.

“Claude, your tea is getting cold.”

“What? Oh, right. I’ll get it in a minute.” Dimitri rolled his eyes and poured himself another cup. He might as well, if only so it didn’t all go to waste. “If everyone else has dragon blood, then logically that means we have dragon blood. But there aren’t any records of dragons in Fódlan that I’ve seen. So where did the dragon blood come from? And how is it tied to the Goddess? Duma said it can’t all come from one dragon, but the stories say that Crests are all the gifts of the Goddess—”

Dimitri set his teacup down, blinking. “Do you not know of the Immaculate One? Or…any of the divine beasts?”

Claude stopped, turning to face him sharply. “The Immaculate One? Isn’t that the great beast the Goddess sent to support Seiros’s army against Nemesis?”

Dimitri nodded. “The Immaculate One has been the symbol of the Knights of Seiros since Nemesis fell. And that symbol is—”

“A dragon!” Claude brightened. “You’re right! I’d completely forgotten about that. See, this is why I wanted you to get in on this.” Claude immediately started searching through books, tossing the ones he didn’t need aside almost without a care. Dimitri was pleased to note that none of them landed open, so there wouldn’t be any bent pages or cracked spines, but he still made a noise of protest. Books should be treated with care! Especially ones that were clearly from Askr’s library! Claude, of course, was too preoccupied to bother with Dimitri’s wordless protest, instead intent on finding whatever it was he was looking for. When he did, he held it up with a wordless shout of triumph, and darted over to the desk to slam it down and begin flipping through. Once he found the page he was looking for, he slid it slightly to the side so Dimitri could see.

On one of the pages was a grand mural of the Goddess, one Dimitri knew by heart. There was the Divine Mother looking down and her chosen, there the Immaculate One taking to the air, there Saint Seiros kneeling in the foreground, and there were the divine beasts surrounding her. And encircling all of them were the Crests the Goddess had gifted mankind - Dimitri knew where his own was without even searching.

“So these are the divine beasts, right?” Claude pointed out the four creatures that flanked the Immaculate One in the mural. “They were sent by the goddess to save her chosen’s army when it looked like Nemesis would win, and then vanished off into the sky, yeah?”

“To rejoin the Goddess, yes.” Dimitri nodded. There was the Wind Caller, and there the Immovable. That one was the…Lightbringer, if he recalled correctly? It had been some time since he’d read the story of the divine beasts.

“So it’s possible - and bear with me here - that some of the Crests came from the Immaculate One and the other beasts, right?”

“I…suppose it could be so, but they were sent well after the Crests were granted to mankind. The only record of any of them from before the war with Nemesis is the old fable about how the Immaculate One used its wings to create great gusts of wind to carry Saint Seiros to Enbarr.”

“I mean, that’s true, but if Crests are the result of blood pacts with dragons, it could be that all the Goddess did was put them in touch.” Claude tapped the picture of the Goddess. “If nothing else, this is evidence that the Goddess has something to do with dragons, which is a step in the right direction!”

“I suppose that is true. But it raises more questions than it answers.” Dimitri took another sip of his tea. “There are only five divine beasts, and at least sixteen different crests. Even if they were the source of some, where did the rest come from?”

“Knowing where five crests come from is better than none,” Claude replied, “but you’re right. And there’s not much anyone here can tell us, unless we suddenly discover that one of the other worlds is Fódlan’s ancient past. But that doesn’t mean we can’t look at this from another angle! We know where the crests come from, but they’re only a part of the puzzle. What about the relics? And the crest stones in them? Why doesn’t Teach’s sword have a crest stone when the rest do? And, the big question…”

“…Why did the Lance of Ruin turn Miklan into a demonic beast?” Dimitri finished quietly. Lady Rhea had ordered that the entire incident be kept secret, but it hadn’t been enough to quash the rumors. With those that had witnessed it turning to their friends to help cope with the horror, it wasn’t long before it was an open secret within the walls of the Officer’s Academy. No one would speak about it outright…but the way they’d look at the Lance of Ruin the few times Sylvain chose to carry it made it clear they knew something of what happened all the same.

“Exactly. He didn’t have a crest, right?”

“No.” Dimitri shook his head. “He did not.”

“So there’s something there to do with crests. The Church even preaches that only those with crests should handle the Heroes’ Relics, right?”

“To keep people safe,” Dimitri protested, grip tightening just slightly around the handle of his teacup.

Claude held up his hands. “You don’t need to explain it to me, Your Princeliness. I live in the Alliance, remember? I can think of a few less scrupulous lords that would be happy to steal a relic and force it into the hands of someone that couldn’t use it to cause their rivals _problems._”

Dimitri had to set his teacup down to keep from breaking it. He’d heard the rumors, the jokes, the stereotypes about the Alliance, but to think that Claude honestly believed there were people who would go _that far…_

He forced himself to breath slowly. Getting angry here would help nothing. And the Church was doing its best to make sure those sorts of people didn’t have access to such dangerous information.

He could still feel his fingernails digging into his palm from the force of his grip.

“Anyways, I want to know what caused that. Yeah, him not having a crest has something to do with it, but he managed to use the lance for weeks before it actually happened, right? Is that normal? Was there some sort of trigger? Was it just ‘divine punishment’ because he was a horrible person?”

That was a nice thought…except that it wasn’t. It was nice to think that the goddess would take such a direct approach in dealing with monsters in human skin, but at the same time, it was unsettling to think that she would do it in a manner so dangerous to innocent people. What kind of all loving, merciful goddess would condone that?

It was outright terrifying to consider what might happen to _him_ if it was true. Dimitri was many things - a good person wasn’t one of them. Would he be turned into a grotesque beast if he dared to use Areadbhar? He stomach did flips at the thought.

“-all the wild demonic beasts?” Claude was still speaking. Dimitri jerked out of his thoughts and into the present, blinking. What had his friend been saying? Questions about how demonic beasts came to be, and - wait.

“Did you say…wild demonic beasts?” Dimitri knew of wild magical beasts, the wolves like to prowl the Tailtean Plains on occasion, and the great birds made nests high in the mountains to the south. He’d even heard rumors of giant magical fish near Glastyn Point, in the rough waters north of Gautier territory. But wild demonic beasts?

Claude gave him a rueful smile. “There’s a forest in the northern part of the Alliance, near Fódlan’s Throat. They call it the forest of beasts. Supposedly there’s demonic beasts lurking in there. Now, I haven’t exactly been there, but it comes up in serious discussions enough that I’m willing to believe that there’s truth to the rumors.”

Dimitri felt his stomach twist again. “But…if those demonic beasts were like Miklan, then…” Then they had been people, once upon a time. How in Sothis’s name did that happen?

“Yeah.” Claude nodded. “And there’s nothing about any relics missing in the Alliance, either. So, how did they come to be? Whatever’s causing it, if there’s a way for people to just stumble across it without knowing any better…” He trailed off. He didn’t need to finish the thought, Dimitri’s mind had gone there on its own. For people to find something and be turned into beasts for simply not knowing the dangers…

Dimitri found he needed to finish his cup of tea, to give him something to focus on that wasn’t that dark line of thinking. Instead he forced himself to shove it away, lock it into a dark corner of his mind, and refocused his thoughts on something more productive. “I have not seen anything here like a crest stone, but…the Kanas use stones to transform.”

“Yeah? How does that work?”

“I don’t know. But they have shown them to me, from time to time. They don’t really look like the crest stone in the Lance of Ruin, but if they have the power to cause such a change in shape-”

“They’re a good place to start.” Claude beamed, before something seemed to occur to him. “Then again, I don’t know if the Kanas will be much help. They are just kids.”

“True, but if the Kanas have stones, it stands to reason that the Corrins would know of them - if not have some of their own.”

“Good point. Hey, come to think of it, doesn’t Fae have one of those too? So Sophia might know something.” Claude’s expression shifted back to eager. “Looks like we’ve got our next move planned out! We can start tomorrow!” He finally snatched up his teacup from where it had sat, forgotten, and raised it in a toast. He downed it all in one go, only to make a face once he’d finished. “Ugh. It’s cold.”

Dimitri snorted. “I did warn you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the wait. The end of the semester was...more stressful than anticipated. Not abandoning this, though.
> 
> I know there's no canon mention of the Wind Caller and the Immovable and the like in the church doctrine, but frankly it would be weird for them to show up on the mural and not have any associated stories, so.
> 
> Before anyone tries to go "but Claude was researching the Immaculate One!", yes, he was...in the chapter after when this Claude comes from. I have to give Dimitri something to contribute! So, since he's the prince of the HOLY Kingdom, he gets to share all the religious bits.


	9. Sanity, Thy Name is This Shiny Rock I Just Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's probably not a decent coping method, but they don't know enough about mental health to really contest it.

“Hey, Tiki, have you seen Corrin anywhere?”

The dragon in question turned to face them, stifling a yawn. Why was she so tired all the time? Claude didn’t get it. It was something she’d been dealing with for a long time, though, seeing as her younger self was much the same. Kinda like Linhardt, except Tiki didn’t strike him as quite as lazy. It was more like she just…couldn’t help it. But no one seemed overly concerned about it, so whatever it was, it must’ve been under control.

“Which one?” She asked, blinking rapidly as she tried to shake herself into more awareness.

“Either of them, really.” The Corrins’ circumstances were generally the same, so it shouldn’t matter which one they found. In theory. If that turned out to be wrong he’d deal with it when he got there.

“He’s out on a patrol, I believe,” Tiki replied after a moment of thought, “though I think I saw her leaving for town with her little sisters. It will likely be some time before they return.”

Claude sighed, and scratched the back of his head. It wasn’t like there wasn’t things he and Dimitri could do while they waited, but…he wanted answers! They were getting close to something big, he could just _feel_ it. He didn’t want to wait. Patience might have been something he’d learned to be good at, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it.

“What’s gotten the both of you so agitated? Corrin didn’t do something, I hope?”

“No, no,” Dimitri waved off the concerns, “we just had a question about their transformations. Claude is simply hungry for knowledge; it makes him impatient.”

Was it that obvious? Well, it wasn’t like he was making an effort to hide anything. Why bother when it wasn’t something that was going to get him in trouble? “You’ve caught me red handed, Your Princliness.”

“Their transformations?” Tiki’s eyes brightened, just a bit. Like Professor Hanneman when he took his first sip of tea in the mornings. “It’s not so different from my own. Perhaps I can be of service instead?”

“Ah…perhaps?” Dimitri seemed taken aback by the sudden shift of Tiki’s mood. Claude couldn’t really blame him. To go from drowsy to fully awake and aware at the drop of a hat wasn’t something most people could do. Maybe that’s why no one was concerned about her sleepy demeanor? Even he took longer to wake up than that, and he’d learned to be a light sleeper under the threat of not waking up again. “Do you use a stone to shift, as well?”

“I do indeed. As do most of the dragons here.” Tiki reached into her pocket and produced a gemstone the size of her fist. It was a beautiful thing, a vibrant green that caught the light in such a way that it almost seemed to glow. Or maybe it really was glowing. It was hard to tell. It definitely had an air of power to it, though, that was for sure. The air around it was almost _humming_ with some kind of energy. He couldn’t say he’d been around enough crest stones to tell if it was the same sort of feel, but there was no denying the amount of raw power that both kinds of stone had was staggering. He was glad Tiki was on their side. “This is my dragonstone. It holds all the power of my other form, allowing me to shift at will. Each manakete has their own dragonstone - no two are exactly the same. A manakete,” she continued, clearly anticipating the question that Claude was about to ask, “is a dragon who has sealed their power into a stone much like this one.”

“You’ve gotten questions like these before, huh.” Claude couldn’t help but grin. He always did appreciate it when others had a healthy curiosity for the world around them. The more people learned about the world around them, the more they accepted, he’d found.

“You would be surprised how many people _haven’t_ seen a person change into a dragon before,” Tiki replied lightly, a twinkle of mirth in her eye.

“You said that most of the dragons here use stones to change, does that mean there are some that don’t?”

“Of course. Duma is not a manakete, though he could be if he so chose.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Grimas use a stone either…” Dimitri brought a hand to his chin as he considered the information before him. “But all the others I can think of certainly do.”

“Grima is…different than most,” Tiki replied carefully, shaking her head. “I could not tell you how, exactly, but I do know that they are not like the other dragons here. You are correct about them not using stones, however.”

Claude filed that bit of information away in that little mental drawer he kept interesting tidbits he picked up but didn’t really have immediate use for. Right now, he was focused on the subject at hand. “So why do some dragons need a stone to transform? Those laguz don’t need anything like that, right? And you said Duma didn’t either. Seems like an odd limit to have.”

Tiki hummed in affirmation. “I could not tell you how the laguz change their forms. But for dragons, the truth is, without the stones to help contain our power, we will degenerate.”

Claude blinked in something between shock and confusion. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dimitri reacting much the same way, even as the prince began to speak. “I am sorry, but what do you mean by degenerate?” Dimitri’s question was tentative, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to ask.

Tiki paused, glancing down and away for a moment. Remembering something? Probably something bad, judging by her expression. The humor from just a moment before had faded to something more somber. “Dragons are…powerful creatures, as you well know. Too powerful. If left unchecked, that power erodes our minds, until we are little more than feral beasts.”

The both of them stared at her, rather dumbly, if Claude did say so himself. But what were they supposed to say? What did you say to a person that told you that they and their entire people would go murderously crazy if they didn’t have their own personal shiny rock? Even Lorenz and his much vaunted nobility wouldn’t have a polite response to this. …Though, it would be funny to see him try to come up with one, now that Claude thought about it.

“There’s no need to fret, however. My mother helped discover a method to store our power into stones. They allow us to use our strength as we see fit without sacrificing our selves.” Claude’s gaze fell back on the dragonstone as Tiki spoke. Yeah, it was definitely glowing on its own. “I have been alive many centuries now, and it has not failed me yet.”

“I am glad to hear you’re not at any risk, but…even the children…?” Dimitri sounded concerned, and slightly disturbed if Claude didn’t miss his guess. Understandable. The idea of someone like Kana or Myrrh or, gods forbid, Fae turning out to be some feral dragon creature that wanted nothing more than to slaughter its way through whatever was closest was…well, unsettling was putting it mildly. He almost didn’t buy it — except that distant look in Tiki’s eye told him that she’d seen the effects of not having one of those stones firsthand. He decided to stick with tact and not ask about her experiences with people she might have known turning into a monster in front of her very eyes—

Now wait just a gods-damned minute.

Turning into feral monstrosities? That sounded like what happened with Miklan, alright. Except, these dragonstones _prevented_ that, instead of _causing_ it…

“Hey, what happens if a human tries to use a dragonstone?”

Tiki blinked, caught off-guard by the sudden change in direction the conversation had taken. “I…do not know. I’ve never seen someone try.”

“Claude, don’t…” Dimitri glanced over at him, clearly having figured out the general gist of the point Claude was getting at and not wanting him to risk turning himself into a beast just to solve a mystery. Not that Claude was going to try to cause a reaction like that just to see if it could happen! He rather liked not being a hulking demonic beast, after all. A lot more fun to go through life that way, if he did say so himself. Nor was he planning on making some other poor schmuck take the fall, either. Claude was willing to do some dirty stuff to make his dream a reality — but turning an innocent person into a beast was too far.

“Relax, I’m not gonna.” Tiki’s gaze flicked between them, brows raising in a silent question. Claude gave her a smile. “There’s a kind of stone in our world that turns people into this nasty feral monster. His princliness here is worried that I’m gonna try and find out if your dragonstone would do the same thing.”

Tiki’s eyes widened for a moment, before her expression settled on contemplative. “I don’t believe that would happen if you attempted to use my stone. I don’t think anything would happen, in truth. It should be just as ineffective for you as it would be for another manakete.”

“Let’s not risk it, just to be safe?” Dimitri sounded like an exasperated babysitter when he said that. Claude would have been insulted, if it didn’t make him want to see how frazzled his fellow house leader could get.

“Relax, I’m not gonna try it. I like being me-shaped too much.”

Tiki hummed in amusement. The melancholy from earlier was still there, but…less. That was good. Better not to dwell on dark things one couldn’t do anything about.

“One last question, if you don’t mind. How do you make a dragonstone?” This was more his own curiosity than anything else, but it might still be useful. A similar process might be possible for mages to do with other, less powerful magic. Lysithea would certainly find it interesting…assuming she didn’t yell at him for telling childish stories or something when he tried to tell her.

Tiki blinked. “You know…I don’t know. My mother made mine when I was very small…I can’t remember ever being without it. Perhaps one of the others will know?”

* * *

“Should we be concerned about the fact that Duma could apparently go insane at any point?” Dimitri muttered as they made their way to where Princess Maria had last seen Corrin. “Especially seeing as he is a god of war?”

“I dunno. We’d have to ask Dis about it. She’d probably have some idea. Though the whole degeneration thing does explain why all the people from Zofia that we talked to made such weird faces when we asked about him.” Had they seen a degenerated Duma? They’d certainly implied that they’d seen the worst of Duma.

Dimitri let that thought hang in the air between them for a few minutes. Was he contemplating the repercussions of a god of war going insane? Or was he just trying to come to terms with the fact that he might very well have punched that very same insane war god in the face in the name of their little investigation and gotten complimented for it? Claude couldn’t tell. But after a bit of silent pondering, the crown prince of Faerghus spoke again, voice low and concerned. “Do you think this…degeneration could explain the presence of your wild demonic beasts?”

Claude blinked, and then considered the possibility. Tiki had said that dragons would turn into feral monsters without a stone, and that was a pretty good description of what a demonic beast was. It would also neatly explain where the hypothetical dragons of Fódlan had even gone if it were true. They didn’t know what those hypothetical dragons had looked like beyond that one mural of the divine beasts, so it wouldn’t be _too_ much of a stretch to assume they looked similar.

“It could, I guess. But that still doesn’t explain what happened to Miklan.” Claude shrugged. “Wherever those demonic beasts come from, it sounds like the best thing we can do for them is to put them down.”

“Spare them the suffering and return them to the goddess’s side,” Dimitri said in agreement, frowning. Of course the big softy would feel for the hypothetical people that got turned into beasts. Not that there was anything wrong with that — to exist as a ravenous beast, doomed to wander the land bringing pain and suffering until someone finally killed you? That was one of the worst fates he could think of. Especially if whoever they were was still aware on some level. He shuddered slightly at the thought, and then pushed it aside. Dwelling on that wouldn’t do him any good.

“Well, let’s not worry about that right now. First we need to figure out where Corrin is, right?” He elbowed Dimitri gently, nudging the price from whatever dark thoughts he was mired in. Dimitri blinked, and gave Claude the beginnings of a smile and an _of course_. He’d take it.

* * *

They found Corrin in the garden of wind, mixing up…something as Elise and Sakura bent bits of wire.

Elise was the one to spot them, sitting up and waving when she did so. “Heeeeey! We’re blowing bubbles! Come join us!”

“Blowing…bubbles?” Dimitri’s confusion was kinda funny. Elise didn’t seem to mind it, though — she just jumped up to grab each of their hands and drag them forwards.

“Yeah! Corrin’s mixing up some soap and stuff, and Sakura and I are making the wands! You dunk ‘em in and blow bubbles!”

Sakura tensed slightly at being mentioned, blushing just slightly at the attention that followed. Claude gave her a warm smile, which she returned with a small, shy one of her own. “We’ve g-got enough for all five of us, if you want. B-but if you don’t, you don’t n-need to stay!”

“I kinda wanna see how this goes, actually,” Claude replied easily, letting Elise plop him into the grass between her and Corrin. Dimitri was on her other side, by Sakura. Elise immediately launched into an explanation of how to make the wands, all while pushing some wire into Dimitri’s hands so he could follow her instructions. The prince didn’t protest, even if he did look a bit sheepish. No doubt he was thinking about how many wires he was about to break in an effort to make a bubble-blowing wand.

Leaving his fellow house leader to entertain the young princesses, Claude turned to speak to Corrin. “Where’d you learn this?”

“Gunter taught me. He used to take Jakob, Flora, Felicia and I out to the balcony that overlooked the gardens and let us blow bubbles. It was fun!” She beamed at him, red eyes bright. “I didn’t think you were the type to be interested, though. N-Not that that’s a bad thing!”

Claude laughed. “Hey, you gotta relax every now and then, right? This seems like as good a way to do that as any.”

Corrin nodded, pausing to examine her mixture. There was a soapy film to the liquid - Claude guessed that was what made the bubbles. From beside him, Dimitri made a noise of resigned despair as he apparently snapped a wire. Elise and Sakura were surprised at his strength, but not to the point of being willing to give up on their attempted lessons. Dimitri, to his credit, was still willing to play along, as exasperated as his inability to bend thin wire was no doubt making him.

“I heard from Princess Tana that you were looking for me earlier?” Corrin’s voice brought Claude’s attention back to her.

“Yeah, we were. We wanted to ask about dragonstones, but Tiki answered most of our questions.”

“Oh, okay. I don’t mind answering any questions if you still have more, though!”

“Well…” Claude considered, even as Dimitri heaved another sigh of resignation. Elise was giggling at him now, which probably wasn’t helping him feel any better. Even Sakura sounded like she was muffling laughter. “Your stone is the same sort of deal as Tiki’s, right? Helps you transform and keeps your power from overwhelming you?”

Corrin went stiff for a moment at that, before nodding. “Yeah, that’s right.” Claude decided not to press. Whatever had caused her to lock up for a moment like that, it was probably personal…and painful. He liked knowing secrets, but that didn’t mean he had to drag out someone’s worst memories in what was supposed to be a fun, relaxing afternoon.

“Well…do you know how yours was made? Tiki was apparently so young when she got hers that she can’t remember.”

Corrin shook her head. “No, I don’t. My mother made mine, but I…never got to ask her how.”

Her tone of voice told Claude all he needed to know about why she’d never gotten the chance. Time to steer the conversation away from that old wound! “Well, what about Kana’s? You were obviously old enough to remember when he got his, right?”

Corrin relaxed as they moved away from painful memories, a smile slowly returning at the mention of her son. “I was, but I didn’t make it. Azura did. So…you could ask her?”

“Okay, I will. Thanks!”

“Of course!” Corrin beamed, clearly pleased at having been helpful. “Now, let’s blow some bubbles! Are the wands ready?”

“Almost!” Elise replied. “You and Claude still need to make yours!”

“Dimitri made one already? Wow. I expected it to take more than three tries,” Claude replied in a teasing tone.

Dimitri heaved a great and dramatic sigh — which had all three ladies giggling. “Princess Sakura had mercy on me and helped to make mine.”

Claude joined in the laughter at that, especially once he saw Dimitri’s lips twitch in a smile of his own. “Well, I hope they have some patience left, because I’m gonna need some help with mine!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10 hour work days are tiring. So is moving. Both at once is frikkin' exhausting, yo.
> 
> How's about them brave units tho? I'm gettin' me a free Dima for sure. And maybe a free Claude if the orbs I've been hoarding get me that far QuQ


End file.
